A crash course in changing the world.
The early morning call of the neighborhood song birds has me alert to the first inklings of light, and I am out of bed.
Waking up my body and calling out some creature noises myself, I step outside for a fresh breath, and to gaze at the radiance of the rising sun.
Leaping back to my bed, I give a sweet kiss to my Lover, grab my sack, bring along some food, and start trotting off down the eastward path.
I arrive at my companion's home, who is awaiting my arrival, and we continue at a brisk pace, sharing recent stories of beauty and discovery.
We arrive at a steep path, leading its way up the cliffside, going in the direction of the foothills near to here. We ascend, sharing with each other a few
treats to keep the blood invigorated, and taking in the wondrous scene of the
early morning glow spreading across the region.
The upward climb soon has us at the height we were envisioning. We slow down our pace,
begin focusing on the scents and sights of this highland meadow, and begin
opening our hearts to the natural intelligence of the land.
We begin feeling a velvety, purple softness; it is calling to us. This wild voice of the Earth
beckons our attention to an outcropping of boulders away towards the edge of
the meadow. The big stones appear
radiant in our vision, speaking the character of their bold and lofty presence.
Upon reaching the stones, our heart's awareness is awash in the smooth vibrations of this velvety call.
We each take our rest here, laying upon the Earth, breathing, touching
this feeling with the grace of our attention, giving thanks for the nurturing
and delightful contact.
Eventually, the feeling finds its way in to our head, neck, and spine. There is a sensation of
gentle, rippling waves rolling up and down our center, delicately opening up
any perceived restrictions. Our body
lengthens out, and there is the awareness of our joints decompressing, and our
muscles growing stronger.
With this awareness, we playfully ascend on to the topmost parts of the boulders, and there, bathed in golden light, is the beacon of our
soft caress. Bunches of little white
flowers, tinged with baby blue, erupt out of the rock crevices, their green
foliage blanketing the flowers feet with a dense pillow.
Reaching inside to the lucid imagination of our feelings, there is the image of this plant's Spirit, an old, old man, dressed in the
finest of clothes, surrounded by his grandchildren, for whom he is
dancing. His dance is an incredible
feat, his legs jumping, kicking, and spinning himself in supernatural fashion,
while his body above appears so gentle, so caring, so kind, his smile and face
totally relaxed and shining the beauty of one so old and 'well preserved'.
There is a message to his song, singing of traditions, ancestors, heritage. We continue to
notice the powerful action of his dance, our inner gaze continually drawn to
his feet, to the immense strength of his lower body, and in the background, we
hear the message of his placid appearance, the loving show being put on for his
grandchildren, the warm-hearted play of this Elder Spirit.
Coming out of our vision, my companion and I share our observations, our feelings, and our ideas.
Taking up a small plant, we examine the root, smelling, tasting, rubbing
it with our fingers. The sensations of
this inquiry sends a slight rush through our system, and we feel tall,
grounded, and strong.
Carefully examining the patch for the plants most opportune for the harvesting, we each collect a modest bundle of flower and root,
wrapping them in the large leaves we brought from the bottom of the cliff, and
tying with some home-made cord. These we
place in to our sack. In the nooks of
stone here upon the boulders, decorated balls of bees wax and dusted with
crystal that we have crafted full of our heart-felt joys and inspiration.
Full of vigor, we decide to skip our snacking for the moment, and with fleet feet race ourselves back to the bottom!
After taking our food in a pleasant creek-side grove, we continue homewards, discussing the insights to this new medicine and its
possibilities for aiding us in our own health and that of our community. In particular, we feel how helpful this plant
may be in bringing some of our own elders an energetic spark of enlivened play
* * *
A warm departing with my companion, I race home myself, finding my Lover in the corner of the garden by the cauldron, already brewing a
delightfully scented broth of dried berries and garden herbs. After our dear embrace, I reveal the tiny
flowers and share the roots for a taste of aroma and flavor, received with an
equal expression to the discoveries of my companion and I. We then crush the roots in the mortar and add
them to the wort.
Just towards evening, we return to the cauldron to find a magnificent smelling brew, turned o' so lovely by the addition of the morning’s
harvested plants. A barrel is ready with
malted barley, and we pour in the medicine broth, to sit with the sweet grains
and slowly drip out in to another barrel.
Letting the infusion of herbs and fruit pass through the malt this way a few times, we are ready to seal the fermentation barrel, where
it will remain until full with the lively action of our dear little friends the
yeast!
We have already spoken of a few neighbors, who while doing well in their years, we know could use some help to keep their bodies fit and
healthy, helping them in their own works in garden and forest, while also
giving them that extra bit of juice to keep up with the young people at the
upcoming festivals and markets.
And of course, in a big barrel like that, plenty to keep around home to share with friends, and for our own delights ~*~
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