back to the Asian continent

The first time I ventured to Asia, to work and live in Cambodia, was probably the first time I consciously took a pilgrimage in this life. I didn’t know at the time how much that experience would make me grow. I did know that I was yearning to be somewhere different than my own exploitative and consumerist culture, somewhere that respected Nature and people, somewhere that structured its society around supporting people to be all they could be rather than moulding them into a box for the greater efficiency of a system that is powerfully fighting to keep itself alive.

I didn’t find that place.

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popcorn and peppermint tea near portobello

Change is surprisingly hard to deal with, it seems, as we get older and more settled in our ways. Yet everything, including our self, is in a constant state of change. Traditionally, we’ve observed this process through the seasons, ritually marking different periods of our lives, in terms of our activities and focus.

The summer is slowly waning into a cool autumn, as I prepare physically and mentally for the winter. With a new house and new flatmates, and a shift from city to countryside living reflecting a change in priorities, I wonder what the next six months will bring. As a traveller, I bask in new experiences, new environments and new people. Nevertheless, letting go and moving on is a tough process. It must include honouring the moments and the season that is to pass away.

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settling and slowing down

It’s time to simplify. It’s been time for a long time. In fact, it’s always time.

I suffered from chronic tension, stress and anxiety for years. Even as I recognized it, observed it, gave it it’s dues, it didn’t and still hasn’t fully left me. It became more noticeable when the issues finally reflected themselves through the physical body. My shoulders, neck, and spinal area have become misaligned, full of knots and tensed up tight. My nervous system feels shot. Indeed, my adrenal glands (the “anti-stress” glands, a backup system for your body to be able to relax after experiencing stress) literally shut down. They could no longer take on the load of stress that my mind was making up in its own games.

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three weeks of summer

So I just hung up all my washing on the clothing line outside, after already waiting over a day for them to dry, for the rain to begin again, pulling the clothes back down and back inside on the radiator. I’ve become used to dry weather again with the first summer Dublin has seen in years. Thought I’d enjoy the sound of the rain and fresh air from the chalet, and write out what’s been going on for the past three weeks as a way to recognize and process all that has happened.

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it’s perfect

Warm evenings, sitting outdoors by a  fire, with the company of good friends, and yummy food. Drinking cider, and herbal teas, discussing shamanism, and other things.

What more can you ask for from a summer?

At ease, among the garden plants, the chairs digging in soil. At peace. Legs bare, skirt of a Cambodian dress rests lightly, air breezes across all my skin. It’s midnight, in Ireland, and I’m warm. A neighbour plays a rattle in the near distance.

Lost in the stars and dark skies spotted with greyish-white clouds from the moon’s reflection along the house-top horizon. I’ve always loved the skies as I’ve travelled. They are a sight in themselves.

Unique to each place. Ever captivating.

Dublin, Ireland

“Like a shaman’s drum, the rattle is used to aid in achieving the “altered state of consciousness,” that brainwave frequency measured between 7-8 Hz which is the threshold to journey work, reportedly in the Theta/Alpha range. That is roughly the same as the Earth’s natural frequency, known as part of the “Schumann Frequency” range…”

Quote taken from here. 

a summer’s eve

pink clouds and street lamps light glowing leaves
drying, let down hair and sandals
a summer’s eve stroll, hugging the canal
this strange and long sought welcome for the city
drinks are had and dogs are walked, on the grass
a friend met by surprise, to then continue on
life happens here.
energies settle, falling into the night
as slumber sets in with the dusk
an artist’s stroll for a summer’s eve.