Poor little blog. I have abandoned you for the lure of the quick and easy Instagram and Facebook platforms. I’ve fallen into the arms of #ing and photo filters and kissing smiley faces.
It will soon be a year since we began living on the road and it’s only very recently that I have begun to feel like it’s real. We’re not just camping. I am a Nomad.
Since we’ve been on the road we’ve had several family tragedies and fiascos which have demanded our full attention and participation. We’ve gone across the country twice. It has not been easy but it has been wonderFULL as well as awful. Life in high-definition.
I see and feel a pattern here. Huge, intense and overwhelming situations crash down upon us and we ride our little ship across the waves as best we can. We have crafted a sturdy vessel to weather these storms. They pass and we ride calm seas for a while. During the calm we take stock. We lounge and process and give thanks. We don’t wait for the next storm. It comes with or without invitation.
We’re in calm seas at the moment. Back in one of our favorite places. Up on a mountain, in a meadow of yellow flowers. A ring of pine forest surrounds us and the sky provides all the drama for once.
So it is time, pattern and distance that creates the rhythm of this nomadic life. And stuff happens in between. I’m rolling with it.
This morning we walked through the forest. It looks like it’s been a good monsoon season here in the mountains of Arizona. There are wildflowers still blooming but some are already shedding their party dresses, succumbing to the long sleep. I foraged yellow and blues and purple blossoms for some eco dyeing ala India Flint, the Prophet of Bloom. There are pockets of sun in between the trees where Black Eyed Susans dance in the breeze.
I came upon this when we got back home.
An interesting article by herbalist Claire Norris.
“The Black Madonna guides us through our darkness and represents the inner process of transformation. Her blackness has been attributed to the accumulated smoke from votive candles of the faithful, or the dark-skinned inhabitants of the Holy Land, or simply to artistic license. But we need to look deeper to the symbolic and spiritual meaning of her blackness—to the powerful attraction she holds for her devotees in terms of healing, inspiration and transformation.”
Synchronicity at it’s finest.
“This journey is not only about traveling to a particular place, but also about a journey to the depths within, a pilgrimage to the shrine of our own inner darkness.”
My only expectation when I embarked on this part of my journey was to find my way forward by getting quiet and listening. Attending to whatever presented itself. And so I have done and so I will continue to do.
I’ll be out in the forest picking a few Black Eyed Susans.
Oh, how we miss you and Tearful here in this blog world. But we understand. When you pulled up roots, you pulled up roots. It’s nice to come and see you at this home again, though. So good.
You travel for us all. You seek that we too may find.
We all send love and blessings. No matter where you go, you are part of our community.
Mary! Thanks for hanging in there! It’s been so hard to sit and write especially when there’s the quick and dirty Insty and Bookface. But you’re such an inspiration. I’m not giving up on this place. It’s home as much as the airship is and home always includes you. Love you!
I’ve enjoyed reading here for years and hope one day to face the turbulent times with as much Grace and acceptance as you and tearful. Love the glimpses of your nomadic life . (Love your instagram photos too)
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Thanks Rosemary! Love back attcha!
Thank you Barbara! I love your Instagram too!
I’m so glad you’re back at your blog….call me “old fashioned?” hahahahaha…. lovely
Ahhh. Thanks Diane. It’s nice to be back. Old fashioned. Yes, I believe we are.
Mary said it perfectly. It’s always good to see you here, but I’ll follow your nomadic journey wherever you are. Just knowing you are out there, riding the waves, is a balm. Love to you and Scott.
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