Certain places on the land speak to me. I don’t mean that they touch a place deep within me that brings a sense of connection (although this is also true); I mean it literally speaks to me. Sometimes I have to pull over so that I can concentrate on what it is the land wishes to share. You see I’m a path walker and a wayshower.
In the last several years, as the world faces great change and is in need of new ways of operating, I have been inundated with information. My job is to discern how best to share the information.
Earlier this year I traveled in Southern California. Heading east from Tehachapi the voices started. When Tonantzin began to speak to me, I pulled over and opened my heart and ears. That particular message was personal and her presence stayed with me for the rest of that journey. As I traveled back along the same route, I hoped for another conversation with her. I felt her presence, but she had no other words for me.
However, as I approached Tehachapi again, the hills began to cry. “Where are the beloveds?” they asked in a voice both sad and hungry. I immediately pulled off the road with the intention of singing to help ease their pain. I grounded myself, connected to the land and sang their pain.
After a few moments, I felt their stunned silence. This was followed by hushed whispers about a beloved. I heard both excitement and doubt in their whispers. I kept singing until I heard one voice. “Welcome Beloved.” I realized the voice was speaking to me.
“What is a beloved?” I asked.
A beloved, they told me, is one who actively engages with nature – someone who listens, hears and offers something of themselves, often in healing. Long ago, many beloveds talked with us, worked with us, loved us. Now, there are so few.
I asked them about the Faeries and was told that yes, they are beloveds. The Fey however are diminishing as natural places diminish. Humans used to work with them and together they offered healing where it was needed on the land. Mostly, however, they simply engaged deeply in nature’s beauty. Seeing and appreciating beauty is an act of healing; it’s preventative medicine that helps keep all in balance. Sharing in the beauty of nature also offers this medicine to humans and Fey. This exchange of beauty is a way of loving self and those around you – plants, animals, stones, water, ….
I flashed back to my trip in NW Ohio several years earlier where an Elm tree taught me RiverSong. In RiverSong you listen to the innate song of a river (or a tree, person, community) and sing its song back to it. This act strengthens the river’s song and brings it healing. As the river’s song grows in strength and no longer needs you, something wonderful happens. You begin hearing your own innate song. The river invites you to sing your song in harmony with the river song. This exchange is phenomenally healing and ecstatic.
I began singing the hills of Tehachapi again. Their song grew stronger and when they no longer needed my voice, I found my own innate song. Together we sang, healing each other and calling to other beloveds.
If you’re reading this, I’m guessing you are also a beloved. Trust yourself. Spend more time with nature – not passively, but as an act of healing. Notice the beauty, take it in. Speak it, sing it- and in the song, I hope you find your innate song – so I can sing it back to you.
I usually like to at least refer to the science of the esoteric work I do. I could talk about vibrational resonances, but somehow it feels like some of the magic will disappear. Don’t think about it, simply enter the beauty and joy as you commune. It will be lovely. These mutually beneficial exchanges just make plain good sense.
If you want to explore this work more, join my email list; my Facebook page; or you can learn about these practices in “Choices for Joy” – or if you prefer learning via story, try “In the Arms of the Spiral“.