I know I don’t have to tell you that things have gotten pretty crazy and are changing by the minute. 

It’s so easy to get caught up in fear and worry right now and it can feel paralyzing, can’t it?  I had a few days of getting sucked into my Twitter feed of coronavirus news while devouring half a bag of Kit Kat minis myself.

It may be hard to focus and it feels out of control. 

How can we find balance during all of this? 

Are you a human being or a human doing?

Last weekend, I guided 3 lovely souls in Shinrin Yoku forest bathing. As part of the invitation, I said, “Give yourself permission to do nothing.”

Fifteen minutes later, after the women had come back to our circle, one said, “Thank you. You gave me permission to do nothing which I almost never do because I feel guilty when I’m not doing something.”

On almost every forest bathing walk I’ve guided, someone comments on the occasional man-made sounds intruding on our time in the woods.

There was that time in the Davidson town park when a nearby landowner began clearing the leaves in his yard with a leaf blower…

And the time we could hear the distant sound of joy riding ATVs just outside of the nature preserve…

And then, the time one guest noticed how loud the sound of our footsteps swishing through the leaves was, magnified against the quiet of Magic Tree Sanctuary’s forest.

See me.

I am standing here.

I’m sitting in my car in a parking lot, waiting on my daughter when the shaggy, shortleaf pine got my attention.

It is standing three stories tall, sandwiched between two run-down mill houses. Three limbs at the crown stretch towards the sky and the rest of the branches bend and curl out from the trunk below. The needles soften the tree’s appearance, and with the wavy branches, give it a feminine feel. From where I am parked, I have it in my direct line of sight and it’s calling to me.

I have a vision and it terrifies me.

My vision is taking the form of Magic Tree Sanctuary and it is tied to what I’ve come to know as my purpose. I am an Earthkeeper, the protector, the guardian of a piece of sacred land. I’ve been tasked with opening the door to what this land has to offer and welcoming people who need to receive it’s magic.

And here is where I get stuck…

The weather app says rain on the mountain, and instantly, I feel the heavy weight of dread. Rain means there’s a good chance there will be fog on the road up the mountain. I had been looking forward to the weekend and my time in the forest. Now, I’m thinking of bagging the trip.

I didn’t think anything was wrong with me. I was pretty sure I was fine. However, the doctor advised me to go and get a diagnostic mammogram.

The weird thing is I wasn’t scared.

At that moment.

A week before the test was a different story.

As I drove up the twisty mountain road, my mind was focused on altars. More to the point, I was thinking about feathers and how I wished I had one.

I’d recently seen a photo of a friend’s altar. She had created an incredible altar on top of a trunk in her office with crystals, oracle cards and beautiful artwork. I had similar items on my altar, but I noticed she had large feathers on her’s. I loved how the feathers looked—a striking element of nature in her sacred space.