Tag: magic

Magnolia dreams

As the magnolia is blossoming in all her pink beauty on our balcony, we’re dreaming of a place where she can put down roots. But where to find a new home where she could grow? Reading Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden, I suddenly have my answer. Just follow in Mary’s footsteps: go outside everyday and a friendly robin will show you the key. On one of my walks through the city, I stop by a large magnolia tree. It reminds me of the first time my mum and I saw a magnolia. “Isn’t this the most beautiful tree you’ve ever seen? How I would love to have a tree like this one day!” my mum had said. She never did have one in her hillside garden. So when it was time to bury her, I knew it would have to be in the serene place underneath the majestic magnolia, with the branches gently swaying in the wind above her. And so having one in our garden would be a beautiful way to honour her spirit. For now, I tell myself to be patient and trust that what you seek is also seeking you.

Drops of light

As the fog slowly lifts from the river dale, we soak up a few hazy rays of sun. Around us the blue tits are flying to and fro between the trees. Looking up I notice a bit of Traveller’s-Joy climbing up the branches of one of them. Come, let’s take a look! When we get closer, I realise they aren’t the fruits of a clematis at all. Instead they’re branches covered in frost with their ends dipped in frozen water drops. The soft light makes them glisten like tiny diamonds. The silken threads of a spider web hang in the tree like a frosted garland. We cherish these beautiful gifts of nature, as we celebrate the arrival of midwinter by the pine tree. It makes me reflect on the values I want to pass on to our little one, especially in a culture that seems to be oriented towards gold. Whenever I feel lost, I find inspiration in Sharon Blackie’s The Enchanted Life. She writes about the everyday magic that comes from deepening our connection to the natural world. Be present and you can find wonder where ever you go.

The forest calls

One of the books that has been sitting on my nightstand for a while is There is No Such Thing as Bad Weather. I finally got around to reading it, and had an epiphany almost as soon as I started: no more playgrounds for us! In an attempt to visit places where the little unicorn can meet others, we have traipsed all over town looking for playgrounds these past winter months. Beside the fact that more often they were completely deserted, I seemed to always be counting down the number of times I was going to carry her to the top of the slide or hold her hand as she walked over towers that are always slightly too high. I realised that most playgrounds are inanimate and uninspiring places made out of dead wood that are in fact not very child (or parent) friendly. So let’s go into the woods together to play hide and seek, climb over fallen branches, marvel at the fields of Indian Lillies, learn about ants and other small critters, enjoy our little picnic and visit the place where the fairies live.

This wild life

It was during the Wolf Moon that our rainbow baby first arrived. I carried her for the next nine moons, dancing with her and singing lullabies. One fine day in the library I found the most beautiful book My journey within: Your way to a Free Birth and made a birth plan with sweet drawings. To reduce the risk of stillbirth we were offered an induction at 39 weeks, which felt like the safest choice. But as we got closer to the due date, we continued to struggle with the decision. I read all the leaflets and the underlying research, but it felt like an impossible decision. Science or nature? Control or trust? It was only when I remembered Women Who Run With the Wolves that I understood that there is a time for burying the dead and a time for birthing babies, and by choosing force to get her out we were superimposing our grief on her birth and disrupting the natural rhythm of life. So instead we created a despacho ritual to let go of the past and bless her birth, whenever she was ready.

Whispers of love

It’s still early morning as I go outside on the balcony with my cup of tea. It is the end of the summer and the light is starting to change already. Looking at my potted plants, I notice that there are three seeds dangling in the silky threads of a spider web. It reminds me of the midsummer day that my love and I spend in a hazy field of wild horses and golden flowers. It was on that day that I caught a little seed head flying through the air. We marveled at it together, before I released it again. We watched as it was caught by the wind and carried towards its destiny. After the sun had set, we said farewell. Can you believe that when my love got home that night, he found it beside his pillow? It was then that I realised that we had a shared destiny. And you see… now there are three of them. Life expands that way. If you breathe into something, it will grow. Maybe not always in the way that you expect or hope, or as quickly as you wish for it to happen, but in some mysterious way it always does.