Autumnal Shedding

I was away for a couple of days this week. I went bush. Everywhere I looked there were signs of nature’s shedding.. …Seedpods from acacia trees, gum nuts from the eucalyptus and delicate cicada cases perching on grass fronds.The warm glow of the afternoon sun on the small maple tree and  the slowing pace of the natural world encouraged me to reflect on where I found myself at this point in my life.

What had come to fruit and been harvested now the busyness and activity of summer had waned? What did I need to release or shed in order to be living the vision I had for my life? No quick and easy answers.

These are things I will contemplate as we move deeper into the colder months. I will turn inward and begin to write, draw, make more in order to receive the messages I need to hear. Then I will slow-cook and nourish them over winter ready for the next cycle of growth in spring.

So here I offer you an affirmation for this time of transformation and release.

Please feel free to print it out and place it somewhere where you will see it and be reminded of what is important in this season of  life.

Autumn(1)

Healing hospitals?

I spent some time in hospital last week with a case of appendicitis. Whilst I didn’t have to be operated on thankfully, I was virtually anchored there on a IV drip of antibiotics.

I had plenty of time to ponder the resilience of human beings, especially of the elderly with broken hips and legs, facing the immense task of learning to walk again in the twilight of their life. Life is always throwing up challenges and age isn’t a barrier.

Then there were the  nurses,  there when I went to sleep and still present when I awoke, continually cheerful whilst attending to the bodily needs of the ill at 2am , 3 am 4 am…

In this intense environment I saw the precariousness of life, tilting towards death and back again, and how it is the care that we have for each other, even of complete strangers, that makes it all somewhat tolerable and even courageous.

On day 2 I was released from the drip and took a walk outside in the fading light. Camera in hand I was like a child again, hungry for nature’s comfort and delights. It felt so good to reconnect with the natural elements after being in the hothouse of the hospital with curtained beds, grey walls and the constant stream of lights, buzzers, beepers.

It seems that hospitals reduce the human body down to it’s essential functions, the minutiae of vital signs and infections. But what about the wounded animal that is in us? How is that healed? We need the glimpse of green, the quiet of nature’s stillness, the fresh air of a sea breeze to remember who we are.

Sadly in the 21st century, hospitals are not places for recuperation and recovery, or  of healing in the broadest sense of the word. We need more art, more nature, more thought about what revives the human spirit during times of crisis and then create the environment with that at heart.