Animal/Vegetable/Mineral Tag

06 Oct

Posted at 20:50h in Sarah's Journal by

Life feels complex, and I feel as though we are facing increasing uncertainty. I have my tool bag of inner resources – breath, mantras, meditations, buzzing hands. I am holding a piece of shungite. I find it reassuring in my palm, an ally, a talisman. Uuduu (a Mongolian Shaman) describes holding a stone from somewhere sacred as “having the telephone number to connect with the place”. The simple beauty and resonant feeling of small pieces of crystal or stone are calling to me. An initiation into their mystery has woken something up inside me that responds to their dense energetic signature.

22 Sep

Posted at 17:47h in Sarah's Journal by

Eagle feather presides over the room. It was a gift from a Hunter who trains Golden Eagles in the Altai Mountains of Mongolia. Symbol of truth, this feather represents one of my highest ideals, something to align with. Another gift – almost identical in colour is this knitted rat, a double of a beloved pet, who came to represent embodied wisdom and love. He taught me to stroke him until I was present – a zen master rodent. I value the twin perspectives of eagle and rat vision – the eagle’s overview of the big picture and rat’s beady eye for close observation, spotting the details of life. Both are allies for me as a space holder for grief.

19 Sep

Posted at 10:52h in Sarah's Journal by

Nearly blind and very deaf, Pickle lives by his nose. Increasingly it feels as though he has entered another realm – barking at an empty corner of the room, or startled by the unseen. At this moment, it is as though he is receiving a direct transmission of light. He sleeps on pink fluff while the light beams in. Our steady love and his devotion continues.

17 Sep

Posted at 13:39h in Sarah's Journal by

I love the coming of our weekly veg box. I love the feeling of virtue that arises as I unpack the glorious array of earthy colours. I have read the list, made choices, added extras, but is still surprises me. This time a magnificent Romanesco cauliflower arrives – a ziggurat of vibrant green crenulations. I want to paint it, to wear it, to venerate it, and then to roast it. “Why can’t we have normal vegetables like other families?” the pizza eater asked.

06 Sep

Posted at 16:46h in Sarah's Journal by

Neighbours on both sides ensure daily conversations about weather, pets, excursions, vehicles and offspring. There are also regular exchanges in kind – of parcels, trips to the vet, and borrowed eggs. Today there is a surfeit of succulent baby tomatoes. Eleven sit on an heirloom plate in transit from 23 to 22. I try to save these winnings till lunch, but one by one I pop them into my mouth to be burst then sucked, sweet and juicy.

31 Aug

Posted at 19:37h in Sarah's Journal by

I stop to talk to a pigeon. I am taken by its fine hood of taupe fluff and a thick coat of beige and brown feathers. One eye assesses my intentions, unperturbed by my proximity. On closer inspection it wears identity anklets, above fetching red feet and white claws. This particular symbol of peace and love is taking a nap before returning to a ‘well-feathered’ nest.

25 Aug

Posted at 15:49h in Sarah's Journal by

On waking there are two symmetrical neat circles of fox curled on our neighbour’s shed roof. I inspect the garden and note this morning’s flattened plants, where they lay earlier. I find a totem, lost by someone else. Fox energy is clever, playful, shape-shifting, signifies the ability to observe unseen. Dog chases, myopically barking.

21 Aug

Posted at 08:05h in Sarah's Journal by

Under the sign of Leo, at ‘Lion’s Gate’, a lion demands to be bought at Heston Service Station. He feels like an ally, with his open smile and tousled mane. ‘Syrius Blumenthal’ becomes his name. ‘Ginger Girl’ – less easily pleased – makes friends with him. Her eyes also glitter, dark holes at the centre. Two creatures sit side-by-side, ginger fur asking to be stroked, inviting love.

13 Aug

Posted at 22:01h in Sarah's Journal by

I am walking on the Kent coast in search of omens and answers. This stone calls me, crude shape of love. A heart of stone, in search of softening perhaps? I hold this stone heavy in my pocket. I feel its comforting elbows as I grasp it. Sand granules gather in my pocket, abrading my palm as they rub off. I am with those I love, I am loved. I carry the stone home, bumping my leg, coat tied round my waist, a signifier of this here now.