gratitude

Farewell to the Spirits of Place
by

Farewell to the Spirits of Place

Rose Sinclair

Recently we had to move our home from a quiet rural mountainside in Vermont to a neighborhood in Massachusetts — neighbors within spitting distance, street lights, porch lights, etc. When it became evident that leaving was a foregone conclusion, I went deep into grief. The quiet and the wild are much like sleeping and breathing for me — and the adjustment was intimidating. As I wandered in spirit and in my yard, a song from my childhood emerged unbidden and strong — a goodbye song from a children’s show “The Magic Garden” which aired when I was 6 and I was immediately hooked — shapeshifting, trees that held stories, a chuckle patch that shared jokes furled in their leaves… I learned that I wasn’t alone in knowing there was magic in the garden, that everything spoke and had consciousness, and then found that, in fact, I was alone among my peers, and got very quiet about such things, and sought adults to be friends with who could at least hear what I was experiencing.

So, walking in the yard, allowing hot bitter tears to flow, Covid losses, lost job, new job, now have to leave, my familiar died — heart heavy, mind swirling, wishing to scream and instead…

“See ya, see ya! Hope you had a good good time, la dum. Hope you’ll have a good good morning, mmm hmmmm, hope we get to see you again.

See ya, see ya! Glad that you could stay awhile, mm hmmm, glad that we could say good morning to ya, hope you have a shiny day! Byebye now!”

My memory of them singing includes the words “glad we got to spend this time together, hope we get to see you again! Bye!”

And suddenly it wasn’t Carole and Paula singing it in my memory, it was the land wights, letting me know it was ok, they loved having us be so very present to them for 2 years, and knew we wouldn’t forget them…

The land does sing, we just need to allow there’s a song and to Listen for it. Tears merged with a huge grin and the salt taste on my lips was the stuff of life.

It is so.

Thank you Paula Janis, thank you Carole Demas, for sharing your magic with us, magic that continues to grow.

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Voicing my Gratitude

Sunrise at Rites of Spring, May 2010

Voicing my Gratitude
by Anya

I have fallen hard for you guys. Although words will never be enough to express the gratitude I feel to you for the experience which you shared with me, this is to give you a slight idea. I love you.

If I’m to begin at the beginning, then I am to speak of the city, the running around, breaking into houses, chasing fuel for the flame and constantly going on fast forward. The beginning is the journey to the place which is a beginning of its own.

I entered The Place walking through a gate, surrounded by a cloud of sage. I tied an intention, took a deep breath, and stepped through.

Three fires were lit, bright as the sun, shooting fireflies into the air. We sang, and as the rhythm of the drums moved our bodies, we danced. The sky lit up, and with silent lightning it illuminated the joy on our faces. We carried the flame together, singing it alive, first to the ritual fire and then to the fire circle. The drums beat, and again losing all inhibitions, we danced. We let the world go, we became the world, we danced. Your songs pierced my soul, while your motion captivated me, and I fell into the world of which I have always dreamed.

We danced, until the moon no longer outshone the stars. We danced, until our feet became tattooed with the rhythm of the drums. And then I slept, a peaceful sleep to the chirping of birds and the rustling of trees. I slept deep, hugging close the magic which you have helped me feel.

I listened close to the place you have created, to the connections that you amplified between earth and sky, fire and water. After breakfast I went exploring. I walked around the ground, which you have decorated with intention, taking in the space I was lucky enough to occupy. I climbed a rock, I faced the water, and I breathed; watching, listening, being, I breathed and I was thankful to be alive, to be here, to be.

Time was no longer linear. Six sunrises followed three nights, sleep felt like a waste of life, and shoes began to feel like an unnecessary barrier. I tuned in, I let my roots sink deep into the soil, and with every sunrise I experienced a different state of ecstasy. When I thought I couldn’t dance any longer, you drummed harder, you danced stronger, you sang louder. You charged me with your energy and all I wanted to do was to give back, to be able to give you the enjoyment and fulfillment you have given me.

We raised a May Pole, we wove a web, we connected to each other, often without words. I have never met so many people brave enough to look me in the eyes. You taught me how to breathe anew. How to breathe the world into my soul, how to breathe so that all which has been pent up can come out, how to breathe myself into euphoria.

When I expressed my wish to fly you let me through another gate, across a bridge, and to a place of magic. Here spirits roamed, beasts explored and the air crackled. Here I was transformed, and here I learned to fly. I learned not to be afraid of the woods.

You shared with me your soul through your artwork, through your music, though your dance, through your laughter, through your love, through your beautiful voice. You reached out to me and let me reach back to you. Beneath the stars you helped me dance with fire, hearing its silent roar engulf me as I spun and you sang, or played, or watched. You reminded me how important it is to smile. You thanked me for being myself, and I want to thank you for being.