Earth Pathways Showcase

Moon Through The Signs

Grandmother Moon circles Mother Earth every 29 days taking 2 and a half days to move through each sign. Observing the qualities of each sign can guide us in our daily lives.

Moon in Aries - governs the head. A yang Fire sign that brings inspiration, desire and the energy to get things done. Ruled by Mars - can be impulsive and impatient but encourages us to take risks and be pioneering.

Moon in Taurus – governs throat and neck. A yin Earth sign ruled by Venus, it encourages us to ground and take time to cultivate our gardens, relationships, home, plants and body and kindles maternal instincts.

Moon in Gemini – governs lungs and chest. A yang Air sign ruled by Mercury, lightening the mood, reminding us of the sacredness of communication and community. We may feel restless and scattered at this time. Important to breathe and focus.

Moon in Cancer – governs stomach and breasts. A yin Water sign, ruled by Grandmother Moon, emotional and oceanic. Nurture yourself and family and make your home sacred. If you feel overwhelmed become objective, look at the bigger picture.

Moon in Leo – governs the heart. A yang Fire sign ruled by the Sun, abundant and playful calling on us to express ourselves. A good time to celebrate with the Pride, be aware of melodrama and stay in Truth.

Moon in Virgo – governs the abdomen and intestines. A yin Earth sign ruled by Mercury helping us digest new information and experiences. Also helps with discriminating between what is and isn’t working in our lives and lets us weed out with compassion and forgiveness.

Moon in Libra – governs the kidneys and lumbar region. A yang Air sign ruled by Venus, when we seek harmony, light encounters and keeping everybody happy. A peaceful time, good for weighing things up but not necessarily for making decisions.

Moon in Scorpio – governs the sex organs. A yin Water sign ruled by Pluto, intense and powerful, encouraging us to dive deeper into our own psyches and take a look at our shadow self with more willingness to look at our fears and what lies behind them. Sexual desire may be stronger than usual.

Moon in Sagittarius – governs the hips and thighs. A yang Fire sign ruled by Jupiter that brings us out of the depths and encourages us to strive for more, to shoot our arrows high, to seek justice. Full of optimism and potential we plan anew. Only take on what you can handle once the expansive Jupiter energy moves on.

Moon in Capricorn – governs the knees and bones. A yin Earth sign ruled by Saturn that encourages us to seek order, strength and wisdom. The architect of the Zodiac helping us to build strong foundations and sow seeds for the future. Good for group work. Practise self-acceptance and flexibility.

Moon in Aquarius – governs the ankles. A masculine Air sign, ruled by Uranus and Saturn. Let your uniqueness and individuality encourage you to think outside the box but also see that in the bigger picture there are no boxes. Helps us see where we fit into the community and what we can do for the greater whole.

Moon in Pisces – governs the feet. A yin Water sign, ruled by Neptune. A nebulous longing to merge with the void, the cosmic womb and go home. Be aware of escapist desires and find a positive outlet such as meditating, visioning, spiritual work and being creative.

Phases of the Moon

There are eight moon phases during the 29.5 day lunar cycle and each phase lasts approximately 3-4 days.

The New Moon Phase (0-45 degrees ahead of the Sun). Moon rises at dawn and sets at sunset. The Dance begins with the Sun and Moon in conjunction, both in the same astrological sign. The waxing Moon is not yet visible but seeds are in place and the vision is felt but not yet seen. A good time to begin a new project.

The Crescent Moon (45-90 degrees ahead of the Sun). Moon rises mid-morning and sets after sunset. The first visible sliver of Moon is seen, first glimpses of the vision also, as the seed tentatively pushes its first shoots above ground.

The First Quarter (90-135 degrees ahead of the Sun) is the Waxing Half Moon. Moon rises at noon and sets at midnight. Light and Dark are in balance and Light is ascending. The outline of what is to be comes into form as projects and ideas gain ground.

The Gibbous Moon (135-180 degrees ahead of the Sun). Moon rises mid afternoon and sets around 3am. Now it’s time to perfect what can be seen more clearly as the Light becomes more powerful.

The Full Moon (180-135 degrees behind the Sun). Moon rises at sunset and sets at dawn. At the moment of the Full Moon the Sun and Moon are in opposition, in opposing astrological signs. This is the flowering of the cycle, the gifts of whichever signs the two luminaries are in. Be open to receive them and also aware of high emotion that can accompany this phase.

Disseminating Moon (135-90 degrees behind the Sun). Moon rises mid evening and sets at mid morning. The first stirring of the Dark. The seeds planted at the New Moon have flowered and fulfilled their destiny. Now with the first stirring of the dark these gifts need disseminating and sharing.

Last Quarter (90-45 degrees behind the Sun). Moon rises at midnight and sets at midday. The Light and Dark are once again in balance but the Dark is gaining and the energy is drawing back inward. We begin to slow down and begin the process of shedding what has served its purpose and is no longer needed.

Balsamic Moon or Dark Moon (45- 0 degrees behind the Sun). Moon rises at 3 am and sets mid afternoon. Time to retreat, withdraw, meditate and reflect on what has been accomplished and what no longer bears fruit in our lives. A time to recharge on the inner planes.

Retrograde Planets 2015

Retrograde is when a planet, as seen from the Earth, appears to be moving backward from its normal direct motion. This is due to the angle of the Earth and the planets in their orbits. When a planet is in direct motion, planetary energies are more straightforward and when retrograde they become more unpredictable and convoluted. We do not operate in the same energy field when a planet is retrograde as when it is direct. It is a tine to reassess and re-evaluate how we interact with our world at large.

Mercury Retrograde:- Planet of mind and communication. Back up your computer, be prepared for communication breakdowns, telephone glitches, internet connection issues and travel delays! Repair, review, research, rehearse but most of all be here now, present and aware of what’s happening and how to deal with it. Panic is not the solution; acceptance helps; be clear in communicating to prevent misunderstandings.

Venus Retrograde:- Planet of Love, relationships, possessions, pleasure and nurturing. Relationship issues may need addressing and old relationships may need revisiting for closure. Be patient, gentle and kind. Be careful what you buy as you may regret it later! Our values and material values are being reviewed, challenged and changed. This will be revealed in the areas of finance, relationships and your concept of all things beautiful.

Void Of Course Moon

Grandmother Moon is said to be Void of Course from the last significant lunar aspect in each sign until the Moon enters a new sign, every two and a half days, and is once again aspected by another Planet. This can last for a few minutes or up to hours.

It’s a good time to go with the flow as much as you can and not push the river. Take time to ground and centre yourself; it’s not a good time to begin any new ventures. Like the Dark Moon it’s good for meditating, journeying and visioning.

Astrology for 2015 © Aline MacInnes 2013

If you’re an organic gardener, you will of course have your feet and awareness firmly on the ground, ensuring the health of your lovely, living soil. If you’re a Biodynamic gardener however, your feet will still be on the ground, but your thinking will also be taken far out to the starry heavens.

Take planting for example: you could of course just plant (or sow) whenever is convenient for you. Or you could really connect with the cosmos and plant in the afternoon when the earth is breathing in – when she’s in a receptive mode. Or you could plant in the fortnight when the moon is descending, when plants take root more readily. Or you could also plant with beneficial support from the ring of fixed stars (the zodiac); choosing an earth ‘day’ (root influence) to plant your spuds, or a fire ‘day’ (fruit) to sow your tomatoes (just before the full moon of course to ensure a stronger germination).

We all accept the dramatic influence that the sun has on life here on earth, and few would question the moon’s influence on the liquid body of the earth (in us, in plants, in rivers and seas). Why then is it so crazy to suggest that the other planets in our neighbourhood (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn) aren’t also profoundly affecting life growth on Earth?

Biodynamics offers a practical pathway of connection with these life-filled universal rhythms. For more info: www.biodynamic.org.uk

Biodynamic Gardening: Look to the Stars © Claire Hattersley 2013

We are the activists, the artists, the air and the animals; the community builders, the doulas, the healers, the herbalists, and the plants; the poets, the storytellers, the makers, the mavericks, the musicians and the music. We choose possibilities, not parameters. We are the uncivilized.

We, the uncivilized, refuse to participate in a culture based on the desecration of land, life and people.

We, the uncivilized, believe in community, collaboration and the inter-connectedness of all life.

We, the uncivilized, believe it's time to challenge the stories that imprison us; the stories that uphold the self-destructive system we call Western Civilization.

We, the uncivilized, are claiming the right to write our own story. We are digging up the stories of our soil; we seek stories to inspire, we seek stories to unite, we seek stories to rouse the heart, and activate the soul.

Beyond the boundary, life becomes limitless…

www.wetheuncivilized.org

An Uncivilized Manifesto © Lily Rose and Pete Sequoia

i remember

       the breath that makes up everything

i remember

       being so small that i am the point of everything

i remember

       speaking without words, knowledge without language, wisdom

                                                                                       before thought

i remember

       the union of opposites within the beating of blood, within the within

i remember

       the fusing of subject and object

i remember

       land's life being my life

But sometimes i forget

       and remembering is like coming home, every time

i remember © Brian Boothby

The snow is falling again and the night is soft and silent. I have tasted winter on my tongue and opened to its prayer. Vast white landscapes of frost and silence are as close as breath and as endless as stars. When the snow comes it feels as though there is no time; no past, present, or future, that the far away ancestors, who still live beneath our skin and in the land beneath our feet, are following the reindeer tracks even now. I feel them in the marrow of my winter-white bones, in the red pulsing serpents of my blood, through the tingling soles of my feet, feel the drumming of hoofbeats in the dark and secret cauldron of my belly. I know that there are antlers on my brow; that land and ancestor and reindeer have become one in this timeless and ancient dreaming. I lift my face up to the sky, expose the sweetly vulnerable pulse of heart in my throat to the icy bite of night. I raise my arms and feel the softly falling flakes kiss my fingertips like lovers. Winter has come and I am welcoming all who have walked far and woven strong threads of love and support for those of us who have yet more journeys to make. I know we will have good company.

Following the Reindeer Tracks © Jacqueline Woodward-Smith 2013

Day’s waking breath,
Lies silver soft
Within the folds of earth.

Mist trails,
Tinsellate
Bare branches.

Geese fly
Calling,
Across a graylag sky.

Fox and Badger
Pause,
To sense the scents.

Sharp air of fruitfulness,
Cut
With an edge of decay.

The first frail frosting,
Borne upon
An easting breeze.

And as the world
Draws down to winter;
I hoard, ambered
Remembrances,
Of the golden
Honey days,
Of summer.

Cold Snaps © Martin Pallot 2012

Thinking on fire as an element - transformative, heat giving, potent. Alchemy in motion - like art in all its forms - here take this feeling, this inspiration, this intuition; sit with it, show up for it, get your materials, make space for it, shape and shift it into something else entirely.

There is liberation in fire - the ultimate letting go - of form back to emptiness. We can’t control that liberation: fire takes us, sweeps us up, burns us, breaking on through.

That notion of fire within the belly. Owning our passion. How to find that place of our own personal clarity - the “I want” or “I really don’t want”. Inhabiting and embodying our potency, taking up the space, clearly claiming our cause.

Yet how to hold our fierce focus without being over wilful? To live the full clarity of “This is what I want from life” is powerful and permission giving - to ourselves and others.

Yet occasionally to also ask that question, “What does life want from me?” the surrendering into what is simply so….

It’s pretty urgent that we live it well, live it deep and love it large while we are here. Moving in the direction of what matters most; passionately present as we move through.

Passion and Potency - Surrendering to our Creative Fires © Tess Howell

Imbolc - First Stirrings

This time of year has much to teach us about the process of change. Although our rational minds tell us that the days are getting longer they can also seem so bleak and cold so that it would be easy to believe that winter was eternal. Here is where we need to remind ourselves that change has two forms: continuous and discontinuous and the tipping point can be reached by relatively few small actions. Edison pointed out the large number of apparent failures who never realised how close to success they were when they gave up.

At this time of year new growth is vulnerable to adverse conditions, just as new projects and enterprises are. Don't wait for the bandwagon to start moving: the most valuable thing you can do is to offer support and encouragement at this early stage, so choose at least one action you can take.

Of course, before action everything starts with a dream, so allow yourself to imagine the world you would really like future generations to live in. Focus on one aspect of it and complete the sentence: “I dream of a world where…”

On the Earth Pathways website you will find many suggestions for celebrating Imbolc, including composing a story and a chant, as well as finding the special place which you are encouraged to visit regularly to observe the changes in nature.

Imbolc © Marion McCartney

It takes courage and connection to move at our own natural pace in life. People I work with sincerely want to create a better world. No matter how urgent or essential the needs of our work, our families, our communities, or how passionate we feel about our cause, if we ignore our own personal needs and balance, we will give to life less fully.

How can we maintain a naturally-balanced, inter-connected world, if we as individuals do not live in that way in all parts of our daily lives? There are always times for taking action. We also need to gift ourselves times to absorb and digest, to process, to reflect, to cleanse, to enjoy nature and personal moments, to celebrate with others, to create new ideas, to simply 'be'.

If we value equally the roles of our inner and outer worlds; our natural rhythms of receptivity and activity; the contributions to our wellness and wholeness of all aspects of our human natures - mental, emotional, physical and spiritual; and the importance of play and creativity, we will be able to give our best to the earth and all its inhabitants.

Natural Rhythms and Balance. Part 1 © Eleni Zoe Palánzas 2013

Guerrilla gardening as a movement is spreading fast. It involves planting seeds or plants in forgotten or neglected places It is such fun to do! A simple act of beauty! There are many different ways to guerrilla garden and many different reasons to want to do it. It may be that you simply love gardening; it may be that you have no garden of your own; you may want to get more involved in your local community and plant community vegetables, edible plants and fruit trees; you may want to improve the look of a neglected or run-down area; you may want to plant more trees; you may want to help the bees and plant more of the native plants they love; or your passion may be to plant herbs and medicinal plants. You can work alone and unnoticed and also be part of a larger more focused guerrilla gardening group.

Scout out and about for land that could be used for guerrilla gardening this year. Look out for any forgotten or neglected corners or verges, forgotten town planters, alongside footpaths or walkways, land beneath high-rise flats, or playgrounds. Dig the edges and make a garden. Plant trees and give them a stake. Chances are no one will object and your care will be appreciated by many.

Guerrilla Gardening (Extract from ‘Letting In the Wild Edges’) © Glennie Kindred 2013

Give me salt
And a red line gleaming.
Summon life and death side by side
I will walk
Rough soled raw and bleeding
Under ripped grey skies wild and mute
Heart beating to the turn of three times ten
I will lie on the rain sweetened earth
And be full.
Breasts bared to the dawn I will bless my life.
I will fit my shape exactly
In the shadow
Of a family of standing stones
And find my elders in the dark earthed deep roots
Of the Grandmother oaks.
I will sit the long nights by the heat of a blazing fire
And name it kin.
Should anyone ask I will declaim my lineage
As that which makes me feel most alive.
I will belong to this most wild and beautiful world

Raw Belonging © Nell Aurelia Admiral

Nature works in cycles and rhythms of growth and rest, sprouting and decay, producing and composting ... it is only when we too live, work, love, play, create, share, contribute and relate in tune with these, that we are truly honouring our balance with nature and our whole selves.

If every act is sacred in our world, then all phases within natural cycles have equal purpose and value. Our challenge is to understand the whole process of creativity, development and change, and to trust this enough to integrate it into our individual lives. To live fully, with wholeness, balance and wellbeing, is our most valuable gift to the world.

Natural Rhythms and Balance. Part 2 © Eleni Zoe Palánzas 2013

I have given my heart to the river, so my words like songs may tumble over the smooth pebbles and be carried in the ebb and flow.

I have given my spirit to the green pastures, of fields and hedgerows spun and woven. My soul dances across the golden fields in autumn’s ready bliss.

The wind has taken my song, gathered it up and cast it into the air. My whispers heard in the gentle movement of leaves when summer’s sweet caress lightly touches the silver birch.

I have given my love to the forest, for the magic which dwells in that wild place. Cast in dappled sunlight the ancient sacred heart wood, sap rising through my veins and twigs tangled in my hair.

I have given my fears to the shadow cave. Let them return to the Mother and heal. Let them transform and change with the returning sun. Warm mellow light awaken new dreams within me.

Let all twist and weave, mix and blend, in honouring connection with all that is.

I Have Given My Heart To The River © Laura Bos 2013

Spring Equinox – Balance

The balance of day and night links to the theme of balance and fairness in our world. If we allow ourselves to think about it we must accept that a standard of living and use of the Earth's precious resources which simply could not be possible for everyone on Earth is quite unjustifiable. If in doubt, imagine yourself trying to explain it to someone living in extreme poverty here or having made radio contact with some distant world.

So add to your initial vision of a better future what a world based on fair shares would be like.

The stories we tell can seem to present unchangeable truths, so to retell them encourages us to be open to new possibilities.

Inspired by Shekinah Mountainwater’s reworking of the story of Demeter and Persephone, I further re-imagined it so that it was the loss of her daughter which caused Demeter to loosen her control of nature, allowing in the cycles of life, and thus human beings.

Try reworking a traditional story or allow one to start something like this: “Once there was a young woman who seemed to have a perfect life, with everything she needed. However one day she woke up and realised ….”

Compose a simple chant which represents the essence of the Equinox for you. Sing it out loud or in your head, in the shower, in the woods, whenever you can.

Spring Equinox © Marion McCartney

I am always talking to plants; from the moment I get a seed in my hand I begin to sing the future plant a love song, encouraging it to grow big and strong. When I sow the seed, when I harvest the plant, when I make medicine with its leaves, food with its fruit: there is a constant engagement as I whisper my love and gratitude. Even in passing I pause, just for a moment, to acknowledge the plants that live close to me, that have become my friends.

Recently I went to a full moon fire, as part of the ceremony we lay our hands palm down on the earth to pray to Pachamama. A bolt of life rushed through my body, woke me up. I have been living in the dream of the plants so long I had forgotten to talk to the soil, to the earth beneath my feet. Every time I garden my hands come into contact with the earth, and every time I feel myself recharge, my stresses dissolve; and yet despite the frequency of this my attention was always on the plants. I have been overlooking the ground I stand upon.

And so I have begun, at every available opportunity to stand barefoot on the earth; cold dewy grass; sun warmed, river smoothed, rocks; tickly forest floor. I lie spread-eagled on the grass, literally hugging the ground beneath me, let myself be moulded by the lumps and bumps. It is like being cradled in the hands of the universe. It has added a whole new dimension to my life and yet more invisibles to talk to; try it. It feels like home.

Falling in Love with that which I Stand Upon... © Rachel Corby 2013

We have lost 96% of our native plants in our countryside. Once we begin to value them as things we can eat, with extensive medicinal properties, and as part of the intricate web that our native bees, insects, birdlife and wild life depend upon, we can no longer dismiss them as weeds. Time for a little guerrilla gardening!

Using a mixture of sand, clay and compost, mix with native wild flower seeds and then add a little water and press them into balls. Leave to harden off a little in egg boxes, but it is good if they are still damp inside. It is always best to scatter them when it’s likely to rain. The seed bombs can be thrown along footpath edges, and any other place you can find in your locality where there is already some soil and native flowers have a chance of being left to grow.

Alternatively grow native plants in your own garden and then as they spread, dig them up and plant them out, creating beautiful wild edges as you go! Choose places to plant that you walk by often so that you can keep an eye on how they are doing. And don’t forget the after-care, going out with a bottle of water to give the plants a drink if it is dry and in some cases weeding around them while they become established.

Making Seed Bombs (Extract from ‘Letting In the Wild Edges’) © Glennie Kindred 2013

April and the
great hairy rush,
polypody and harts-tongue,
suck from sodden earth.

Liquid songs of blackcap
reverberate through throats
of oak and hazel,
green as those unfurled leaves,

intent upon crowding sky
from canopy. Moss and
liverworts gentle winter-cracked
coats of beech and alder,

and the river runs black
against windflowers,
crazy angels
mobbing the banks.

Lichens draw slow flowers
in charcoal and umber,
leopard marking the rocks
like cast off seal skins,

and all the time
the water girl,
feet in the current,
feels the flow uncurling
like a fern between her toes.

Dwyfor © Sue Chadd

The pathway she calls me, her voice is meadow sweet and elderflower whispered.

Down the pathway I travel, through dark and damp hedgerow beauty, words honey sweet fill the air.

Footsteps from my ancestors ghost guide me, a shadow glimpsed through the greenery of hawthorn.

Underfoot the dark earth swells with the rising energy, stirring roots and hearts alike, green sap quickening.

The pathway twists and turns, the trees lean closer, wise guardians bestowing wisdom in the mutterings of their leaves.

The way is ivy-like, weaving in and out of thorn and beech, binding me and connecting me within and to it.

I touch something deeper here, much more than soul skin deep, a shared heartbeat with our mother earth and she who guards the ways.

Pathway © Laura Bos

In January 2010 a single idea was planted on the fertile ground of Facebook. It was a simple call: Create your own Woodstock. On Earth Day, April 22nd 2010, sing to the trees you love. Since then over 6000 people from 45 countries and 48 U.S. states have sung to trees. Tree singers have included kindergartners in Switzerland, children at a Native American prayer tree near Atlanta, Georgia, and peace marchers singing for the Joshua trees at the Nevada test site where the first nuclear bomb was exploded.

All across the world people are singing again to enchant the land, create awareness and galvanise action. Singing is part of the joy of being human, of connecting us with ancient traditions and reminding us that we all are part of the chorus of life. The idea of enchanting the land is not a new one. Indigenous people have always sung as a way to honour and thank the land, sending prayers for rain, crops, and the return of animals. Our trees need us.

Earth Day – Sing for the Trees © Susan Elizabeth Hale

Beltane – Passion

Let's reclaim passion from commerce where businesses claim to be passionate about anything from pork to printer ink. So it's worth exploring what you mean by passion, what it means to you to be passionate about something.

Beltane is a time for lovers, so why not write a passionate love letter to the Earth, Gaia? What would you promise her? How might she reply?

With sunrise at about 5:30am it's an ideal time to experience a whole day, from first light to dusk, on a Wonder Wander. You set out before dawn with map, compass and phone wrapped up in an emergency parcel. You wander with the sole purpose of observing and appreciating the world around you. If this idea seems too daunting or impractical then try to experience the whole dawn chorus and see spring flowers.

Develop your vision of the future by describing how people have developed a richer happier relationship with this beautiful planet.

Beltane © Marion McCartney

I am breaking and I am tearing through the molten mixing of pewter and umber in this thundering skyline,

I am birch barked and ragged, hedgerow bright blessed and blackthorn dark twisted,

I am joyous and dancing in early April rain, I am crow winged and shrieking in unyielding dark November gales,

I am storm spun and frightening, I am mottled sunlight in amber and gold,

I am evergreen cloaked and everlasting, splinter sharp and laughing,

I dwell dreaming pool deep and shadow water guided,

I am wave washed and bleached bone, sacred spring cleansed and healing,

I am an echo of your passion, a palette of crimson hues, I am plough blessed and earth driven across your patchwork fields,

I am earth born and star dust, air carried and fire ash burnt,

I am deep within you and yet I am all that is.

Breaking © Laura Bos 2013

We are fluid and moving, never static. Unbound by stasis, we constantly change and enter the future anew; we evolve naturally.

In nature we find ourselves and we find each other. Linked by the finely tuned cosmic web, there is no separation. The planets, the dewdrops, you and I, are all connected.

Nature creates, and as co-creators we can share her creation, we can become part of her natural community.

Beneath our feet the earth moves and the heavens move above our heads. We stand between the two, equally linked to both and it is here that nature unlocks the doorway into the sacred realm.

This is our time to journey.

It is our time to take light and gentle steps and move with the seasons, the planets and with our own true nature.

It is the time to realise our inheritance and to re-connect with the harmony and balance of earth and heavens.

Nature’s community is unfolding around us, it is enduring and surviving. It generates healing, radiates love and creates a passage into the sacred realm where truth lies.

Natural Community © Anne Fallas

This will be your only warning.

A wake up call to live now, live loud and celebrate your life. You are alive, now. You can read this, now. A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back. You have been handed all you ever wanted. Or all you ever needed to get what you want. Now you have to go and do something about it. That's the shadow side to our sparkling glitter miracles. Choose joy. Choose it every time. You are shining. You are a revolution, an instigation, a coup d'etat de la couer waiting to spring. You and the calling in your heart matters.

You inspire me, a living manifesto. Doesn't it sound fun to you to live in full colour? People are praying for what you have inside you. You are an angel, an answered prayer, a rainbow hope, a miracle worker, a kind heart, an untapped resource, a potential inspiration explosion. You are the potential of the ages trapped inside you. You are the result of a million years of evolution. You are the culmination, the success, the thriving survival of all your ancestors. You are the instigation and hope for future generations.

You are here on this beautiful planet for a tiny fraction, a mayfly, firework, glittering second. You have no time, and too much talent to waste.

Shine, baby, shine.

Extract from: Adventuress Manifesto © Grace Quantock 2012

My garden greets me with a symphony of flowers – each blossom giving her tone to the composition that wafts its solace across me. Each time I hasten down the path to conduct left brained busyness, a sideways glance calls me to sit awhile and immerse myself in today’s masterpiece – or at the very least take a single slow breath to marvel at her orchestra. But this year I understood that I can hold their elemental qualities in tincture form. How is it that I never thought of this before – for goodness sake I’ve been using shop-bought Bach flower remedies for more than two decades!

So I sit in meditation with a native Geranium to tune into her notes and I collect her essence in sunlit water to make a mother tincture in brandy – to mother me and mine when her voice is resting beneath the ground through winter months. This holy communion lights me up from within as she tells me – none too shyly – of the vibrations and qualities she has to share and I write them down to remind me of her particular melody when her paper veined petals have long since dropped and melted into the earth.

By summer’s end I have garnered a precious treasure chest from my garden’s ensemble. Such bounty for the modest cost of some brandy and some time to sit in the sunshine.

Garden Symphony © Lula Garner 2013

The primary thing that we need for solutions thinking is the belief that there is a solution. If we are lacking the belief that a solution can be found, then even when presented with possible answers we will be blind and deaf to them. Without the belief it is just like when we offer a friend advice after advice but they are too caught in the problem for any answer to fit.

With this belief in place we are open to taking the necessary steps to find a solution. Whatever the problem or dilemma we are faced with, whether it is a personal challenge such as losing our job or a global crisis like climate change, there are ways forward, or ways around it, or ways to reduce the effects.

Believing in Solutions © Looby Macnamara

We gather around the fire
As each season spirals round.
We bring ale and honey cake
Prayer bundles and Blessings.
These are family of the Heart and Hearth.
Tied by our love for this Good Earth,
We have seen babes born, named,
All held and loved within our circles.
We have watched a dear Elder journeying into his Night Journey.
We have laughed, cried, danced and sung together.
We have shared food and drink
Listened to soul secrets, prayers and offerings.
We have watched as the trees planted to mark this Grove
Have grown, flourished, merging into this Woodland.
We gather around the fire
As each season spirals round.

We Gather © RavenCrone

Summer Solstice – Stretching the Limits

Now we are experiencing an extreme period in the cycle, a good time to stretch our limits. Try to experience a sunrise!

Deep Time work encourages us to gain fresh perspective by finding our place in the history of the Earth and of human beings. It helps me to see how recently we have moved off course. What would it mean to act like ancestors?

Let’s stretch the limits of our dreams – and our nightmares. Create two scenarios for the future at opposite extremes. Relax and experience each of them, then write a letter from someone in each future to yourself now in the present day.

If you knew that you could not fail, what action would you take or project would you start for the healing of our relationship with the Earth? Go forward ten years, and experience your project having been successful beyond your wildest dreams. Interview yourself about how it happened.

One of the greatest gifts you can offer is to be able to lead an impromptu spiral dance in any situation: a hold up in a protest march, at a festival, a city park or open space. It’s simple enough for everybody to be able to join in, but done with a conscious intention to connect with others and making eye contact as you pass them. It can be a powerful heart-warmer.

Summer Solstice © Marion McCartney

Our lovely town here in Derbyshire has a history of limestone quarrying which has left a legacy of deep scars on the landscape. However one quarry is now flourishing as a community woodland and it provides a beautiful setting for a group of us to gather, and celebrate, as the wheel of the year turns.

Each ceremony is co-created and fluid and can quickly change depending on the dynamic of the group and the weather!!!! We have walked the winter stillness in silence in a magical snow covered wood; we have danced in barefoot abandon as the thunder rolled and the rain poured down; we have drummed a song to our ancestors which echoed back to us off the cliff face; we have traversed our labyrinth with intent as the purple light faded in the evening sky; we have pledged promises in the moonlight and sung as the sun set; we have acknowledged our blessings and asked for guidance. As firelight flickered around us we have talked, cried, laughed and dream-gazed and we have weaved amazing connections.

We know each time we go to our wood we give back, we become as one with the land and feel honoured to play a part in the healing process it is undergoing. We take our leave giving thanks, feeling gently bound together and truly blessed.

Giving Back © Denise Bristow

Sea glass is born when ordinary glass falls into the water. Broken on the sea bed it tumbles with the rocks and pebbles until all the hard edges are worn into smooth curves. Until the glass is burnished into soft glowing, weird shapes that merely echo what was once part of something else, something discarded. Now utterly transformed into beauty.

And then the tide brings it back to the land.

As a child on our Mallorcan beach I loved it because when you took it home it was like taking a piece of the sea world with you: beautiful, strange, opaquely glowing. Like the sea when you first open your eyes underwater.

As I grew, other beaches came into my life, but you would still find me pacing, eyes searching, and my heart would leap at the glint of one of my jewels of the sea. Pregnant on Bryher in the Scilly Isles I found the most vivid blue piece that I keep in my purse to this day. On my Father’s D-day landing beach in Normandy, part of a perfume bottle stopper marked with rays like the moon.

A beach’s sea glass depends on the tides and who lives, or sails, beyond them. Any beach will do to start. You need keen eyes and a little patience and an appetite to be by the sea. But I think each piece sings to you if you are meant to find it.

My sea glass sings to me of the ebb and flow of the tide and how my wounds, my brokenness, given up to the transforming power of the sea, of life, of Goddess, return to me as treasure.

Sea-change © Katie Player

The breath in my lungs
Travels on the wind
In and out of person, bird and animal
In and out
One breath travelling through all
I give and I receive.
The molecules in my fingertips
Have lived before – inside the tusk of a mammoth
My hair was once a rock on the ocean floor
My heart a distant star
The water flowing through my veins
Was once the blood of ice-age rivers melting into the sea
Molecules assembling and disassembling in the cycle of life, death and renewal
I eat the soil from crumbling mountains
And sunlight caught in the juice of a berry
The same sunlight that floods through my skin
Nourishing my cells
Warming the fire in my belly

Molecules © Looby Macnamara

Smudging allows you to wash away all the emotional and spiritual negativity that gathers in your body and your space over time. It's a little bit like taking a spiritual shower! There is nothing more powerful than using sacred tools you’ve made yourself and smudge sticks are no exception.

1. Choose and harvest your herbs, with stalks at least 30-40cm long to make nice fat smudge sticks. Our main base herb is mugwort.

2. Yarrow, sage and rosemary are our favourite mixes into our sticks. The aromatic herbs tend to burn well and provide the most cleansing and protective actions. The aromatic herbs are high in essential oils which are the plant’s own defence system. The oils burn well with lovely aromas and provide all the protection that they did for the plant.

3. Lay a good bunch of a combination of your herbs but mainly mugwort out in front of you. Match up the stems approximately but you can trim them afterwards. Holding the base of the bunch in one hand, slightly twist the bunch with the other and bend it over so that the ends of the bunch come back down to where you are holding the stems.

4. Now place some twine around the end and bind a couple of times. Then wind the twine upwards and then back down, wrapping the thread around so that as the thread burns away it crisscrosses and stops it from unraveling before you reach the end of your smudge stick.

5. Do a few nice tight rounds at the bottom before tying it tightly with the loose end. Make a loop and hang to dry.

Making Smudge Sticks © Karen Lawton - Sensory Solutions

We are a community of people who live on the edge. The edge we inhabit sits on a flood plain next to a river; home is a car park, a series of warehouses, art studios and workshops on a dilapidated industrial estate in Sussex. Our community is not of one religion, or ideology; nor are we of one definable social group (although it seems we agree on many of life’s finer points, especially the power of love). If I’m being honest, we’re a community of people who find it challenging to be part of the mainstream, to fit in. We refuse to subjugate ourselves to a set of ideas and beliefs that we know don’t serve our higher being, or this thing called love. We’re a community, consciously living in a space of uncertainty and unknowing. Deeply honouring each other’s gifts, we live with the possibility of impossibility, and with it, a belief in magic.

It seems odd to say that I believe in magic. Until recently I’d never thought it to be something real, something of the world in which we live. My understanding now is that magic is something that only happens when we let go. It’s the point when we no longer see an event as chance, but instead as a moment intimately connected to other aspects of our life. Magic, I’m learning, happens when we start to become aware of our interconnectedness and ultimately the fantastical nature of reality and our home, this beautiful planet called Earth.

Magic © Pete Sequoia

Lammas – Celebrate often!

Lammas, when people used to celebrate the early harvest by baking a loaf with the new grain, is a good time to remember the vital importance in any group (including families) of celebrating as you go along: progress made, people's contributions, their commitments for the future, how the group has developed, lessons learnt. Toasting is an easy way to do this, as is presenting awards, both serious and lighthearted.

How might people of the future celebrate a variety of occasions in a colourful, imaginative sustainable way? Add this to the pictures of the future which you're building up.

Going to ‘green’ festivals combines celebration with opportunities to learn from a variety of enthusiastic experts, to collect information and contacts. Ask yourself what you can share with others – your enthusiasm?

Equally importantly you can experience something of what it might be like to live in a different way amongst people who generally take pleasure in helping each other and working co-operatively. You don't even need to camp: there are plenty of one-day events which can give you a similar experience.

However you do it, recognise the importance of keeping in touch with projects and groups all over the world whose work inspires you. We are a new form of network at a vital time in the Earth’s history. Discover your unique role.

Lammas © Marion McCartney

In the garden we can create guilds of plants that can support each other with exchanges of nutrients and functions, thereby enhancing growth and productivity.

With people, guilds can form in our groups and communities that can provide mutual support. Each person has particular characteristics and certain niches that suit them. When working together there can be exchanges of skills and ideas. A visionary and a do-er working together in a group is a potent combination when each other’s attributes are acknowledged and appreciated. Relationships can be nurtured by listening, accepting different outlooks, assuming the good intentions of each other, and by being warm and friendly. The closer the proximity of either plants or people to each other allows more flow and exchanges to occur. Of course there is an optimum closeness for both people and plants – too close and it can be counter productive.

When people are brought together, unexpected things can and do occur; there is synergy and emergence. This is the place of hope, possibility and magic. We are not just optimistic for the future because it is actually realistic to expect the unexpected. We can be possibilitists – aware of the infinite possibilities that await us.

Creating People Guilds © Looby Macnamara

For twenty years the pole-lathe was the mainstay of my career and ever since that first tentative treadle I was amazed by its magical appeal, not only to the turner but to anyone who was to see it in action. For years I struggled to put my finger on what it is that makes the pole lathe such a magical machine. And then it dawned on me. The motion of the pole-lathe encapsulates the very essence of life.

Life is rhythm, rhythm is life. This truth has been expressed in different ways by different people. What goes up must come down. To each and every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The concept of Yin and Yang.

Such a rhythm is felt in the heartbeat, it is heard in music, it is seen in day and night, the seasons and the tides. No wonder that the pole-lathe is such a deeply satisfying and therapeutic way to work with wood.

The Rhythm of Life © Mike Abbott

As beekeepers, we keep the magic and tradition of our craft alive by "telling the bees". Any important news going on in our lives is politely told to the hive when we visit.

In August 2012, just before the honey harvest, my then fiance and I went to book our registry office wedding, and later that week went to see the bees and prepare the hives for the honey harvest. We of course told them our news, that we would be getting married on 30th October 2012. Imagine our surprise and wonder when we returned a few days later to take the honey from the hives, and found the bees had made us a perfect honeycomb heart! No other part of the frame of honey was capped - just the heart shape. We took no honey from it as uncapped honey isn't ripe, and will ferment. We just photographed it and replaced it in the hive. The bees didn't touch it - they left it completely as it was for weeks.

We feel our joining was blessed by our bees, with their very own magical message of love. It's something neither of us will ever forget.

Honey in the Heart © Suzi Goose Edwards

What would I bring home for you dear one?

I bring you the chance to step outside of this time and let your heart set the rhythm of your life.

I bring you the courage to journey at your own pace and trust that your arrival will be timely.

I bring you a door in the heart opened by the eye that can see to your wide expansive horizon.

I bring you the wisdom to recognise the shadow of the Cailleach when it falls across your path and to know that She will show you the way home.

I bring you the essential vitality of a body deeply stretched through all its layers of resistance, the bliss of blisters at bedtime and aching all over.

I bring you the retracing of steps when you take a wrong turn, and the realisation that these meanderings are how our ancient foremothers discovered the path we are now treading.

I bring you solitude, stillness, and silence. The Three who wait in the wildness to feed the soul, if only we stop and look for them.

I bring you my whole self, with my fear, joy, doubt, bliss, pain and love tumbled together like a million pebbles scattered across this great mountain of sisterhood.

I bring you this gift that left my purse strings and the landscape untouched, but touched my heart in the carrying it home to you.

I bring you the footprint of my love for you trodden hard into this mountain.

Souvenirs © Louisa Potter

The wild gardener is a new breed of gardener, one who works with nature’s natural inclinations to self regulate and create balance, by letting in enough of the wild edges to let natural ecosystems evolve.

The wild gardener re-thinks what we think we should be doing in order to be a good gardener and redefines gardening with a holistic perspective in mind, aware of the bigger picture and the inter-connective web of life.

The wild gardener encourages the wild edges to flourish in the garden, lets nature’s rampant energy thrive and find its equilibrium. The wild gardener encourages a diversity of native creatures, insects and plants, and lets nature do what it does best, which is create interconnection.

The wild gardener doesn’t tidy up too much but in the autumn creates compost heaps in out of the way corners, so that the insects can find places to lay their eggs and hibernate for the winter, and leaves seed heads and long grass and fruit on the trees to feed hungry birds.

This is a whole new adventure that is full of delight and surprises but do remember to keep the borders of your garden tidy for your neighbours who may not appreciate your wild edges invading their space!

The Wild Gardener (Extract from ‘Letting In the Wild Edges’) © Glennie Kindred

Eight stones
We stand on the estuary bed
In the gentle summer tides we submerge and emerge
Bearing witness
Watching time

Stones of the Celtic Henge
Derbyshire, Wiltshire, Cornwall
Sing their songs to us
Harmonic threads of connectivity

Resonant Circle © Viveka Bowry 2012

Why Do Ceremony?

Is it to feed the hunger of the human heart for meaning? To be conscious of choices? To call something in? To simply state what is so?

Ceremony is about marking moments; being present with this time, this transition; a witness to what is, what was and what we hope it will be.

It often takes place in a specific place, be that a circle of witness, a religious building, a government office, a small sacred place carved away from your everyday errands; the woods, the windowsill, or wherever seems right when we require it most.

Ultimately it’s about connection: connection to a time of transition, a marker or milestone in our life. Maybe connection to our grief, our growth, or our gratitude, love, loss, leaving, learning; to our intention, to make a moment memorable.

To share our story as part of the flow of life moving on through - whether in its sorrow or sweetness or the thousand strange shades in between.

A time to pause and be with self, other, the wider web of the world that surrounds us.

Making Meaning in Times of Change © Tess Howell

Autumn Equinox - Balance

It's important as we mark the end of harvest to pay careful attention to what we've learned and to develop our skills in areas which may be a challenge but which are certainly useful.

Relatively few people will admit to enjoying meetings, and yet we are lucky to be here at a time when new creative, effective and enjoyable ways of planning and reaching decisions are being constantly developed and refined.

As players of any sport benefit from practice of basic techniques so it's equally important to gain experience of new styles of collaboration, including consensus decision-making, open space and world cafe sessions, before they are needed in a crisis. These new ways of working together could well be part of our next evolutionary leap.

The balance which the Equinox brings to our attention is also the balance between ‘outer’ work and inner sustenance. The all or nothing approach which guilt-trips many keen new activists must be countered by a more human friendly sensibly paced approach. We will need people to work for change all their lives but not at the same level of intensity. Excessive demands create unsustainable groups.

So let’s encourage each other to get outdoors and observe the colourful changes of autumn.

Autumn Equinox © Marion McCartney

My face is tingling in the dark, burning in the glow of the campfire. Everybody is gathering beside the fire, with chairs or on blankets. We draw in close, into a warm unbroken circle. Faces catch shadows in the firelight; some gaze into the fire; joyful voices ring close in the air.

Updraughts whip the fire's flames into glittering orange cinders that spiral out into the deep night air; our wishes and dreams and petitions waft up in sparkling clouds, fading off in the height of the near-dark sky.

The night stays in my memory; I remember the misty rain that sprinkled around us. My head and back, places untouched by the drying fire's heat, are drenched in the light summer-rain. Around me sit friends, with drums and guitars, flutes and voice. People dance a circle dance, close to the fire, edging and following the glowing circle of firelight. Somebody close by is playing a Hurdy Gurdy; Its steady rhythmic drones build a deep, earthy resonance around which percussion, pipes and chants weave, flow, wax and wane. We are a circle within a circle with no beginning and never-ending; the chant hangs, spinning gently in my memory.

The memory now is so faded that I don't recall who I was with, who sat beside me, who opposite. Mainly I remember the roaring fire, music, dancing, chanting, the heat and the rain. That we were there together, celebrating harvest in the ancient act of community. We are the old people, we are the new people, we are the same people, stronger than before.

Rainy Hearthfire © Jean Dark 2013

We are BORN to DIE!

So said the woman selling me veg in the local farm shop the other day. I am so glad to be open enough to talk with strangers about death! It is inevitable and the taboo-ness seems to be slipping away, hurray.

Having been around to support both parents out, I have become closer to death and dying and have noticed that they are hot topics in some arenas. It is fantastic that there is movement to understand and gain better support networks. Let us hope that with greater consciousness we will be enabled to have a smoother transition.

Let’s get networking and spreading our knowledge in order that we may die more easily in the best ways possible and say goodbye in the best ways possible too.

There is a movement sprouting up all over the world whereby folk gather to eat cake, drink tea and discuss death thus increasing awareness. More info from www.deathcafe.com and also to be found on facebook.

We are BORN to DIE! © Karen With

This mist is like angel's breath.
I hunt the Fly Agaric like a fox
seeking red, the secret fire.
The trees are all aflame and burn themselves to bare,
draw their magic down, burnt toffee for the boar,
hearth-root honey for the sow
who winds the year to still with cloven hoof and song of briar.

I keep my belly low and snuffle-seek the Chanterelle
I wise-woman-walk the web and weave of mycelia
find waxcaps; scarlet, butter, honey, crimson,
King Alfred's Cakes to light the inner fire
I pad-paw the paths of a thousand years,
trust my nose, the knowing of my feet
sniff out the place where two roads meet
set sail for longer nights, and shorter days made diamond bright
by frost and fear.

A Morning Walk in Autumn Woods © Jacqueline Woodward-Smith 2013

In early autumn my brother visited from New Zealand, and we spent much of our time together in long walks. Through the childhood haunts of our home-town we tramped, we rambled through woods, by streams, in alleyways and snickleways, we roamed along stretches of Estuary salt-marshes. But in particular we visited Wandlebury Iron Age hill fort on the Gog Magog down – a range of low hills just outside Cambridge.

And in the way we always had when out walking together, my brother and I picked up and admired souvenirs, woodland spoils, trinkets from along the path. As a parting gift, just before he boarded the plane, my brother handed me his nature hoard – a handful of brown dried fruits and a fine collection of deadwood sticks.

In my old gnarled bur-cherrywood bowl I see a conker, a hazelnut, some beechnut shells and half-a-dozen acorns. Their shells all shapes and sizes, colours from yellow and green through deep rusted-iron to dark burnished brown. Some of the acorns are fixed in their cups, some cut adrift and rolling. I think I might plant these acorns gathered from Gog Magog Down and see if they grow into oaks.

Acorns Gathered from Gog Magog Down © Jean Dark 2013

Samhain - In Time

Samhain is traditionally the time to a time to pay attention and respect to those who came before us on this Earth, both recently and back to the very first humans. We can skip back through time to those early humans. If they could, what might they want to say to us? In your imagination hear their words. As we go forward through the generations what ‘gifts’ do they offer us? Remember that you are part of a direct line to these very first humans. Perhaps it's a combination of luck and adaptability which has helped this line to survive. Take those gifts and use them.

Among the greatest dangers facing us is being trapped in cynicism and despair. Those who, for their own purposes, resist change often persistently deny a need for change and then suddenly conclude that it is now too late to do anything about it apart from, for example, looking for a magic techno-fix. According to Mark Stevenson cynicism is like smoking: you think it makes you look cool but it actually harms both you and all those around you.

Enjoy a wood fire outdoors, or a wood-burning stove. Dream…

Samhain © Marion McCartney

Winter is the time that the guerrilla gardener looks for young self-seeded native trees, either in their garden or growing where they obviously have no chance of reaching maturity. These can be dug up and planted out. You can spot them now as the vegetation begins to die back, and the young trees have enough leaves on them for identification. Mark with coloured ribbons or wool, with a colour code to identify each species and then dig them up over the next few months and move them to a better position. If they are small then pot them into large plant pots with plenty of compost and nurture them until they are big enough to plant out in a year or two.

Native trees particularly suitable for rescuing and re-planting are elder, hawthorn, rowan, crab apple and hazel. All are very useful to the hedgerow forager and are all fairly small hedgerow trees.

Native perennials and first year native biennials can also be transplanted from your garden out into the wild edges’, to cheer a place up and to provide foraging opportunities for the coming years.

Guerrilla Gardening: Digging Up and Planting Out (Extract from ‘Letting In the Wild Edges) © Glennie Kindred 2013

When leaves leave branches bare
and birds depart to a warmer world.
Sky's colour fades from glorious to grey,
turning turquoise to black pearl.
Trees, silhouetted, seen at dusk,
as I walk the woodland way
through the dewy, damp, gangling grass
on this dimly dying day.

Autumn © Mary Chapman 2012

In the country, a joyful combination
Of cold night, new moon and an absence of cloud
Brings a pitch black sky, studded with a million stars.
Once eyes adjust to the dearth of light
A wash of stars streams across the heavens
Constellations, galaxies, the Milky Way.
So many points of light
Dwindles my place in the universe
To one tiny part of the cosmos, by no means central.
In awe, a childlike delight creeps over me
And fixes this wintry treasure in my heart.

Night Sky © Chris Auger 2012

See me in the stillness
See me in the crisp edges of the cold shadows
I am in the dark corners of your life
Come into the darkness and search for me
Curl up in the corner and find me
I am the shadow part of you

Take me into your arms and love me
Draw me down into the black cauldron at the centre of yourself
In your womb space cradle me tenderly in the darkness
I am your fear
Hold me safely through the quiet transforming depths of winter
And wait ..... wait ....wait
for the spring to shed light on what I have planted there.

Shadows © Louisa Potter

This song came out of a retreat one Autumn. First it was a creative block. Then it was a pastel picture that looked peaceful and promising, surrounded by a thick dark border. It wasn’t to be hurried. Finally a song came through. Listen at www.kismet-music.co.uk/earthpathways

Let me rest, deep within,
For I am a seed, a radiant seed,
I have no need of the light of day.

No, let me lie, beneath a comfortable sky,
Let my stars be the roots above.
Before I come to birth, let me lie in the earth,
Amid the beautiful darkness.

When the freeze awakens me,
I stretch out a root.
Before you see a leaf of me,
I dig down deep.
And no-one can know what I will show;
There is plenty of time.

Time moves slow in the darkness,
Time moves slow in the darkness,
You don’t know in the darkness,
You don’t know in the darkness,
How near the dawn may be.

Seed © Jackie Singer 2012

At Winter Solstice ....

May we willingly release the things we no longer need, and follow our hearts on a journey into the new light....

May we plant the seeds of our dreams with hope
May we nurture them with love and courage, passion and belief
May we watch them grow strong, sharing our joys with those who are special to us
May our harvests be abundant, and gratefully received
And may we celebrate often as community, remembering in our hearts where we truly belong.

And always ...

May there be peace in our hearts, in our land, and in our world
May we honour each other with kindness and inclusion
May we care for the earth and all her beauty, treasuring her gifts to us
May love surround us
And may we trust that the changes that come are for the good of all.

Winter Solstice Blessing © Eleni Zoe Palánzas 2011

Winter Solstice - A Change of Heart

The story of a Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens offers us some powerful insights into transformational change. Scrooge and Marley's ghost look out of the window and see spirits wailing in agony as they hover over destitute homeless people. Marley explains that it is because now they can see so clearly what needs doing in the world and how they could have made a difference. Having rejected that opportunity they are condemned to eternal anguish and regret. To me that this is a great challenge: to act, to make a difference in the physical world while we are in our bodies, while we have the chance.

Scrooge is horrified to learn what people will say about him when they hear of his death. In a very personal and private piece of writing record what you would like people to say about you. Then make it so.

The book is also about the possibility of quite sudden transformational change. Buildup to the change is almost imperceptible, like water turning to ice. Look back on changes, personal community and global, that you have experienced and reflect on them as well as recording them in a book of changes. As Nelson Mandela said, “It always seems impossible until it's done.”

What if this is the beginning of a wonderful story of human beings living cooperatively and harmoniously with many adventures ahead? Let’s make it so!

Winter Solstice © Marion McCartney

So… Get out your spade;
start digging.
Don´t be afraid;
start digging.
Peel back
the crap,
and start looking.
Stop standing on the truth.
Sit down,
and let it grow.
Get to know,
take the time,
there´s no me or mine,
no straight line.
You are a spiral tribe,
you are alive,
you are round,
you are sun, sky and ground.
Look around,
start asking questions,
start making suggestions,
let negativity
embrace possibility.
For dark
becomes light,
and provides insight,
permission;
Open your vision,
let us be the seeds, trees, flowers, leaves,
pushing up through the crust of the earth,
let us be mother,
let us give birth,
for this my friend,
is not the end,
but the beginning.

Extract from Enough © Lily Rose Sequoia