Once upon a time there was a girl who would only feel at peace with the world when she was on the highest roof top of her town.
From there she would sit and watch the hustle below her – people going in and out of shops, old ladies going for yet another cup of coffee with their friend, young people going for yet another takeaway together, toddlers in push chairs, mums looking lonely, builders fixing buildings and… birds.
On my workshops I often share with the attendees how much I like the Rudyard Kipling story, The Cat That Walked By Himself, from Oh So Stories. you can read it Here.
This story is in a similar vein, but from Zimbabwe. It does encapsulate cats very well too… This is dedicated to all Women, Cats and Catwomen everywhere…
Once upon a time, there was a wild cat, who got tired of living alone and chose for herself a husband, another wild cat who she thought was the finest creature in all the jungle.
Frog said: “Humans need to help the wild animals and the wildlife, we need it! Help the wildlife in your garden or in your area. Don’t assume that wild animals would rather be left to take care of themselves, this is no longer the case. Things are beyond that now and in order to survive a lot of wild animals need a bit of support… so feed the wild animals who live around you, build a pond in your garden to support us… Humans have caused a lot of damage on wildlife and now we need humans help to undo what they’ve done. It’s important for our survival. More and more wild animals go close to human habitats to see if they can find help or just scavenge some food. We are on the decline, our habitats are fragile and we need help. Thank you for washing me and taking such good care of me.”
I’m not sure if I will be able to put all this into words… I chose the images above as a way to convey hope, a love for nature and the small things in life.
Our Time Here:
Even though nature is in a crisis, and huge transformations and changes need to happen,
Even if the governments seem to make a point of getting it all wrong,
Despite the fact that money and the interests of a few people seem to prevail,
Over the fate of the planet and the rest of her inhabitants…
I have hope.
Yesterday, I had a lovely time, teaching special yoga in a local disabled centre. We reflected on kindness and on bodhicitta – wishing good things for ourselves, the persons we love, those we don’t like, all the sentient beings around us: the animals – pets and wild – plants, the planet… Everyone!
I knitted a new doll last week and I went on an explorative journey.
I could write about every step of the process, but I feel like that would probably be boring. I found it very therapeutic, in a self-reflective way.
“I would ask you to remember only this one thing,” said Badger. “The stories people tell have a way of taking care of them. If stories come to you, care for them. And learn to give them away where they are needed. Sometimes a person needs a story more than food to stay alive. That is why we put these stories in each other’s memory. This is how people care for themselves.”
– Excerpts from Crow and Weasel by Barry Lopez.
First of all thank you. If you have ever attended any of my workshops, you may know how I like to stress out the importance of gratefulness. Gratitude is like magic. It is a beacon of light that can shine when we find ourselves in the dark. It’s a key. It opens doors. Especially the door of our hearts. When one is generating a feeling of gratitude, one’s heart grows a few sizes bigger. And we can access that vast landscape. This openness takes us to oneness with Nature.
I have been busy. I am sure you have too. Who isn’t busy these days?
A few life times ago I made a vow. I vowed to dedicate my self to help animals. To alleviate their suffering and help them to be heard. I have tried a few things over the years. I waged a war against the world, but I realised that the war I was fighting against the outside world was also happening inside me…
I always like to end my yoga classes with a story or a poem. Often the poem or story comes to me in one way or another and it wants to be shared. It finds its way in front of my eyes, perhaps because I need to read it myself, or perhaps someone else will gain from hearing it, after the relaxation at the end of the class. I have folders and books full of poems and stories that I have been collecting over the years. Stories that are just waiting for the right time to be shared at the end of a class…