Last night I wandered no the woods near my house, something I’ve missed doing while living on the other side of the state. Since we’ve moved ‘home’ I haven’t done this as much as I’d like, something I plan on changing.
Anyway, it was twilight after a rainstorm and the forest was dark and full of night-sounds as I wandered. There is a trail and to one side was the woods and marsh while on the other side is a highway. The two worlds are so close to each other, separated only by a thin swath of dirt and weeds.
I felt myself poised between both halves of my life – the ancient and modern, the mundane and the magical. I’ve felt this before (I’m sure many of us have) but what made this different is that, for once, I didn’t feel torn between the two. I was poised, balanced.
Perhaps it last because I was in a city for so long, cut off from the large swaths of woodlands that populate my home town. Perhaps it’s because I wanted to be more ‘scholarly’, but I’d forgotten how comforting the night woods are, how connected to the land I become when I’m in them.
I was full of night-thoughts, of how this is the connection I’ve been missing. This is what has been lacking in my practice. I’m a child of the woods, a being of earth and fire. I’ve tried to forget that, to be something I’m not. It’s time for me to set my fingers into the loamy earth of my woods and relearn my childhood lessons. I open myself to the spirit of the forest.