What heals, often disrupts first

The rain is gently hitting the glass and creating a nice buffer from the noise in the other room. Mark is working from home and I can feel the distinct shift in energy in the house. In my body, there is a tiny bit of guarding that happens when there is anything but silence now. When you live out in the woods, silence and stillness is a rare gift that cleanses me daily.

It wasn't always this way. 10 years ago when we moved out here (from a busy boulevard in the city), it didn't feel like the woods were healing. It felt disruptive.

The "can't see in front of your face" darkness, made me feel like I was surrounded by danger that was closing in on me. Not being able to see what was out there feel terrifying. I didn't go out at night until I made a deal with God, 6 months after we moved. The absence of noise felt like a thick blanket, threatening to smother me and take away my breath. It created the space for the voices in my head to speak up - some good, some disturbing. I spent years sitting with the thoughts, beliefs, feelings, and sensations. It was hard.

It's 10 years later, and I've shed so much of the beliefs and values that were playing dictator to my life. They couldn't survive the honesty of the forest. I feel like the woods brought me back home. And now, I prefer my own company. I know how to be alone whereas I clung to people and things before. I prefer the company of the trees, the animals, and the creek. I'm ok being different. I love myself more. I feel at peace so often.

Posted on social Sept 19, 2024