I took a drive this afternoon.  Not something I do very often... I'm too conscious of the cost of 'pointless' journeys  - I do not want to waste fuel and pollute, and I'm always mindful of finding the cash to fill the tank again.  But today I did. I needed to reflect away from home, away from all the usual sights and sounds that numb my mind with sameness.
As I travelled I found this tree - or perhaps it found me, who knows.  I stopped, and don't remember if I asked permission to take its picture - I rather think I didn't as I was looking out for traffic and lost in my egoic mind - so I just took it anyway. Not something I would do to other beings of course - other people that is.  But then we humans have short memories, and think we hold so much more value than everything else, do we not... 
What a mighty tree it is!  How it has twisted in growth over the years... how it has turned with the seasons, ever upward, ever downward, stretching out in all ways to find itself in space and time.  I would like to know it better.  Sit beneath its mighty bows with my back against its trunk.  Get to know the essence, the spirit and the personality of this awesome tree. Find the oneness that we two will share.  But look!  There is a fence between the tree and me.  A fence that says politely, 'This tree is not for you - you may observe, but do not touch, do not make contact with its form, keep out!'  Some take no notice of fences, and I envy them.  They step over man-made boundaries that have been forged from the distortion of a society based on exclusion.  'This is mine' the fences say 'this very land belongs to me'.  And I, as a well adapted child of social conditioning, complies absolutely.  The fear put in me as an infant ensures I keep to the paths I am allowed to walk, and never stray across the border to taste freedom and truth.
How sad that seems to me today.  How sad I cannot hug a tree without fear.  The tree misses out too, I do believe.  Another loving connection not made where one could have been, and all the while, never hurt a living soul.
But I see the tree in the picture, and I see it in my mind.  I will see it again I think.

 

It's hard to see I know...  but there is a Lightwave in this picture.  What is a lightwave?  It may look like smoke or frosty breath billowing across the photograph, but it is not. It is something else... something normally unseen, but none-the-less fully present. You can choose to take my word for it - or not - it is up to you :-) 
I don't know what it is, and I have to be content with that.  I feel it is energy - Earth energy, Tree energy perhaps - something that flows never-endingly to and through all things, in all ways, in all time.  But who knows?  And if they do, they're not telling!
I have felt a little despondent lately... I have allowed this and that to take me down, and I have let in the voice of the ego perhaps a little too much.  It has been a tad destructive, as it is prone to be. when given to much rein -  so this afternoon I settled in a brainstorming session under the direction of a very helpful soul, and came out the other side with a much clearer view of where I'm going and what I want. 
And what do I want?  I want to follow the direction of what I believe is Spirit, leading me gently as it does through the woods and fields, guiding me on the paths of life and supporting me in my decision making; helping me take the right route in Life.  I want to trust that when I do this I will be fully supported, financially, emotionally and physically in every way, and that my life will unfold beautifully, and with Love. 
After the brainstorming, I went out into the woods.  It seemed the perfect place to seal the deal.  I walked up the snowy trail to where the beech trees stand peacefully, looking down across the valley.  One of them seemed perfectly huggable, so I put my arms around it and pressed my head against the trunk.  How I love the enduring strength that gushes from a tree.  There is nothing like it!  It makes you feel as if everything really is alright...  Like a loving father ... strong, safe, loving and non-judgmental.  Just there for you, in the moment.  After the hug, I took some photos, and then the lightwave appeared...
I walked on, and as dusk fell I took some more pictures.  It was astonishing! The waves of light were all around me.  I took 26 photographs of lightwaves tonight.  Five new ones are on the anomalies page now, and I will put more on as I get to it. 
I have taken this amazing night of light-filled pictures as confirmation that Spirit really is there, and really is listening, so I guess all I have to do is keep to my end of the bargain, and all will be well...  :-)

These moss covered trees 'called' to me a couple of days ago.  It was still and quiet on the hill.  One of the quietest days I remember - the quietest day of many, many quiet days walking the stony paths of Exmoor.   No wind disturbed the faded grasses, or tugged at the bare twigs of the beech trees.  All was still and resting - the only sound the fluttering wings of hundreds of starlings as they whirred in flight, rising and falling from empty green fields. 
As I stood amongst them, these old trees reminded me of a dream.
Down into cool, gravely earth went my feet.  I felt them push past rocks and stones and divide into powerful roots.  They twisted and turned as they felt their way ever deeper, seeking out life giving moisture.  My arms went up as branches into the air. They reached out and grew many limbs, dividing and forking out into the spaces.  I felt my body slowly stretch and turn, the bark on my torso becoming thick and woody as I spiralled ever upwards towards a loving sun.  I rested in the warmth for a moment, still moving, still growing, but at the end of the turning.  A while later, and I started to fall back.  Slowly, so slowly, in rest towards the peace of earth.  I felt my limbs touch the ground and my body sigh and surrender.  I lay in stillness - waiting, but not waiting. 
In my dream, I knew there was an urgency for me to return to my human form.  I knew I had to sit up - my very survival depended on it.  With great effort, as if I were magnetised to the ground, I hauled my frame upwards to a sitting position.  I found myself looking at a great crowd of light filled figures.  Four were sitting on the ground opposite me, across a fire whose lively flame obscured their features, but I could see they were smiling.  I said 'I'm alright now'.   
 

I love the birds that sing in the treetops.  I love their feathers in the sun.  I love their voices that lift my spirit to fly free.  I love all things about them - there is nothing I do not love about the birds.
I love the cat that curls on my lap and warms my heart with her soft purr.  I love the way she gently pushes against me and threads through my legs in greeting.  I love the feel of her glossy coat, and the look of her little paws.  She is so sweet when she naps on her cushion on the window cill. I love the cat.
But this cannot be love, because it is conditional.  I do not love the cat when she kills the birds I love.  I do not love her at all.  I hate what she does, and I cannot justify it.  It makes me sick to the stomach and I want to kill the cat myself.  This is not love.  This is saying "You must do what I want, or I will not love you!"  This is the very worst of what us humans do...   This is how we entrain our children and poison our relationships - by withdrawing love that isn't really love at all - because love, real love, IS unconditional, and flows freely no matter what.
How do I keep loving in the face of things of which I do not approve or understand?  How do I do that?
I suppose I have to ask myself is it love at all if I can turn it on or off so easily...? 
Love - real Love - just IS.
Judgment leads to suffering, and there is no love in suffering - only pain.  Judgment is false as it is built on beliefs handed down, not on lives lived in openess.  Judgment hurts everyone because it separates us, one from another.  I am right - you are wrong.
I say the cat is wrong for killing the bird.  The cat has a different point of view  The bird has none, and I miss the space where the bird once was and I feel the pain of separation.  The cat moves on.  The bird moves on.  I stay with my attachment and my judgment, and I suffer. 

I am the little boat upon the sand. I am asleep, still and waiting.
I weigh heavy on one side, silent, resting and alone.
I am the seagull that cries in the sky, and lands upon the little boat, I am.
I am the voice of the seagull, and the wind that ruffles feathers and tugs at the rigging of the little boat.
I am the rays of sun that warm the body of the seagull, and soften the chill in the wind.
I am the light that brings life to the colours on the bows of the little boat.
I am the time that passes.  I am the clouds that roll and tumble. I am the shadows that stretch. 
I am the tide.
I am the cool advance that creeps across the molded sands.  I am the motion as it runs through the gullies and up the beach, speaking a language understood by infinity.
I am the water that kisses the little boat, and rolls around the bows with good humour.  I come home to myself.  The wind that I am joins in, and I merge in a blissful dance of lightness, as the little boat lifts and turns - we are one.
The seagull cries and brings awareness, calling out across the retreating sand as water and dusk take over. 
I am the dark night whose fingers creep.  I am the starry reflections and the moon that rises in the east.  I am the eerie light that changes the little boat into unworldly magic... brimming with shadows and potential.
All night long, the colours that I am let go, and darkness and the stars are all there is.
The moon sets, and with it comes a new day.  I am the sun that sends blasts of angel light into the clouds.  Colour bursts into the world again, and the little boat, I am, falls asleep upon the sand.
I am the sleep, I am the dream.  I am.

While I've been taking it easy, I've allowed myself the time and space to draw...  Sitting in bed, listening to soft sounds that carry my mind to a soothing place, where it no longer feels it has a job to do. Birdsong and the sounds of nature.  Music and the sigh of the oceans.  Bells, chimes and chants. 
Once the mind is quiet... magic happens.
The dreamer is free to dream the dream.
While in this place, all else falls away.  I have no wants, no needs, no urgency.  I sit and drift with the tides of the ages... not noticing, not missing either, just present. 
The lines on the page take form.  What is this? 
Shapes and mark making, and soon I know.  Old friends I do believe. 
Then colour... always colour.  Colour is light, and light is... everything.
Who drove the picture, who sent the message?  I listen, and she tells me. 
I do not want to fall back.  I do not want to dream another's dream.  I want to keep dreaming my own.

New years eve I spent with my little grandson.  During the night he became quite unwell, and I stayed with him as he ground his teeth and thrashed around; his temperature rising and falling.  I didn't sleep much.  Staring into the darkness I saw many visions swirlling and writhing - it wasn'nice.  They were dark and angry and very energetic.
The next day my grandson went home feeling a little better, and I went to the beach.  There was a truly magical quality about it.  The sun shone brand new on this first day of the year, and the glassy sands seemed to vibrate with an unworldly energy that carved geometric patterns and promordial shapes in the sliding waters - echos of umbilical chords stretched out like dreams of lost souls... like the seas of the past made present in the golden glow of the sand.   I walked and walked, and left the world behind in the salty mists where land meets ocean, and ocean meets sky.
That night I became ill myself.  I purged for hours - no time, no space - just an is-ness and a releasing of that which needed to go.  I felt myself as a child again, felt my mother rub my back and murmur comfort to my body as it sought to rid itself of the dark and angry energy.  Exhausted, my legs never felt so heavy, I wanted to lie close to my mother again, close to the Earth, to feel the ease of her presence - her peace - her love. 
Days have passed, and now I am so grateful to be feeingl better again.  I am enjoying being in a state of allowing.  I am not driving myself like a damn fool!  I am resting, I am at peace. I am.
The picture is the cover of a book I wrote some years ago.  While I have been recuperating, I revived it and put it on amazon yesterday.  I used one of the photos I took on the beach on new years day for the cover... it seems perfection.
The book is my thoughts and experiences at that time... life has moved on, and many things have happened to me that I would not have dreamed of back then - but still, there is much in it that holds hope and love, if sought.