This morning I woke up before the sun.
Darkness covered the land, and the night creatures were still going about their business.
Moving quietly so as not to disturb, I found my way to a special place in our garden where I could watch the sun rise over the hills.
We seem to be surrounded by death right now.
Death of people.
Death of social systems.
Death of environments.
Truly, the death of stories in so many ways.
Yet as we all know, death is an intimate and essential part of life on Earth.
Change is another word for death.
This week I have been offline adventuring with my husband.
He is a master in this art – as am I.
It is one of the things that brings us closer every time we embark off into the unknown together.
Adventure is an art.
If you were to take a guess for a moment of how much of your life story (and therefore experiences) were created by your mind, what would you say?
Trick here – it’s your mind that will give you the first answer.
Laughable really.
Now stop.
Take a deep breath.
In fact, take as many as you need to relax (this may take a lot longer than you would expect).
Now ask that question again and this time notice how you feel.
Yes FEEL.
In times of massive transition, I have come to recognise the voice of my body as an integral guide.
It is a voice we often ignore or drown out in distraction.
It speaks in feelings, dis-comfort, dis-ease and erratic sleeping patterns.
It also tells us when we are ‘on track’ by manifesting synchronicity, joy and miracles.
The voice of my body is ancient and carries within it the wisdom and lessons of my ancestors.
It carries in its DNA and cell’s the potential of my future ones.
My body is an incredible instrument of divine will.