Avallon Grove Summer Healing Fest

The Origins of Sophie's Heart Labyrinth

 Past Life Regressions are fascinating and can often turn up nuggets of wisdom. Sometimes they lead to healing. Sometimes they lead to sharing that method of healing.  That is the case with Sophie's Heart.

An apple tree is a wonderful magical place to hide, to tell stories, to flee what adults want you to do.  A seven year old can disappear into it’s branches easily.  Sophie had left her new tabard near the wall of the orchard buried under some branches.  She was a bit chill in only her shift and she sometimes could feel the spring bees’ wings against her arms and legs.  The blossoms smelled so delicious and sweet.  The humming of the bees lulled her to slumber. Her dreams were far away from the wedding in the Great Hall.  Imagine your groom being an Ax held by an smelly, ancient man. Well, at only seven Sophie knew it would be years and years before her real groom, the Lord of a coastal manor, would come to collect her.  Meanwhile she was able to flee the celebration after a ceremonial drink of wine and a light plate of food. 
Her skin was goose bumped when she awoke to a sound below her.  A hum that replaced the bees’.  It turned to a soft song. It seemed to go back and forth and around on itself.  Peeking down she saw a young man dropping what appeared to be seeds in a pattern under her favorite tree singing as he went. She leaned out further knocking some petals down on him.  He sang louder but didn’t stop until the pattern seemed complete.  He then went back over the pattern with some dirt from a second bag he carried.  By the time  he was done, Sophie was shivering violently.  He looked up into her eyes and held out his arms.  She came down into them to be wrapped in his cloak.  This was Daffyd, a traveller from Wales.  Not tall, kind of square of shoulder, in general, brown - brown eyes, brown hair, very tanned skin from living on the road.  He laughed.  And so their friendship began.  Yes, just friends.  After all he was but 14 and she but 7. 

Bear with the story, good people, although I know it seems long.  Not too long after Daffyd and Sophie met at her Ax Wedding, the Anarchy began.  King Stephen and the Empress Matilda both wanted to rule England.  In general the Southwest was for Matilda and the Southeast was for Stephen but the war went back and forth many times.  Some people changed sides and then back again.  The year that would have seen Sophie married to her Lord for real came and went without him coming. The war was close then and the men were off fighting.  Then after more years word came that her Lord had fallen dead. She was now the heiress of a Manor on the Coast to her father’s delight. Her sister had been married off and already had children.  Life seemed quite good.  But then another Lord was found for her.  This time she refused. How could her father marry her off again to another old ugly man? But another Ax Marriage took place with Sophie desperately searching for ways of getting out the this marriage.  After all she had her own wealth now.  She didn’t need to bring more land to her father.If that man touched her, she would kill him. Her heart was dark and the darkness sank into her soul.
Daffyd meanwhile showed up occasionally all through the war.  Their friendship solidified and strengthened.  Sophie asked her friend if he knew plants that would kill?  She was surprised at his reaction.  They often talked of plants and trees and what they could do. He had grown into a Healer.  Ready to settle down back in Wales. Why would he not help her escape her fate? She was determined, on hearing her new Lord was arriving at the manor, to kill him no matter what. Daffyd would have nothing to do with that.  When he left he asked her to come, but she refused out of anger at his not helping her. She didn’t see that he had offered her the escape she craved.  He had offered her the world.
Two days later her new Lord arrived. It was to be a quick celebration for the war was back in the neighborhood and her Lord needed to get back to his troops.  Sophie was ready.  The ground up dried mushroom in a handkerchief awaiting the first opportunity. It came soon Her hand hovered over the cup.  Hatred of her father and her new Lord, of the times that dictated such things could happen seethed in her heart. She stirred the dark liquid to take to her new husband.
On her plate a bundle of herbs appeared. She hadn’t noticed them before. Their scent was heavenly. It distracted her thoughts so much she forgot she was going to give the poisoned cup to her husband. It slid from her hand spilling on the floor. The orchard with the wildflower labyrinth Daffyd had created called her. She begged to be excused to clean up her dress. In her room she suddenly knew what she had to do.  She gathered a bag of clothes and a few precious things her mother gifted her.  Then she slipped out to the stables taking her sturdy pony and went to the orchard. Under their tree, she found the labyrinth. She remembered him putting a rolled up skin within the now ancient tree.  A map.  She followed it even riding at night though it was so dangerous to be out.  In three days she came to a valley in Wales.  It was beautifully green and at the Southeastern edge there was a large labyrinth made of herbs and an apple tree in the center.  That is where she found Daffyd.  It was Wales.  English laws didn’t apply.  Well, you know the rest.

Plug it in Plug it in

Batteries Included

When we are born - we are born plugged into the Universe.
As we grow up we separate more and more from Source.  We pull apart from the energies around  us allowing  distractions, allowing pain and hardships distract us from beneficial energies.

To recharge your batteries - reconnect the plug.  Mediate. Take a walk in the woods or the park.  Hug a tree.  Look up at the sky and clouds.  Look up at the moon and stars. Look deep into the eyes of your loved ones including your pets.

Reconnect.

(if you can't go out, make your own tree.)

A Different View

Sometime ago, many years, my nephew came into my room to check out the pictures on my wall. I was pleased.  I love when people look at the part of me I put up for myself but also for others to share.  The books and the pictures are my way of showing part of who I am.  They show the whimsical humorous side of me, the magical woo-woo side of me, beauty and mystery through my eyes, the intensity, the lightness and the connection of nature.  More than likely if you open on of the books you will see how my mind works.

The nephew came into the room quietly.  After a moment he got twitchy and put his head down shoulders up.  I asked him what was up?  He finally asked - why do you have that horrible, ugly, dark painting on your wall?  That took me totally by surprise for I look at Goya's View of Toledo as a lovely sunny picture.  It's just a print by the way.  Yes, it has dark greens and grays in it but dark, no.  So I explained to him what I saw. -See! It has sun coming through those billowing clouds and there's washerwomen at the river in the gorge below the town doing their chores in the newly emerged sunshine.  The stones of the city glow.  The radiance from the clouds is miraculous.  This picture makes me happy.  It makes me feel at home.

He looked dubious or skeptical perhaps circling his way from the painting then slouching out of the room. He was around age 11, I think.  I just couldn't imagine why he thought it was dark and ugly.
On thinking of this episode later I realize it's a good thing to take a second look at what's around you seeing it from another view.  Sometimes we are so wrapped up in our own views we forget that other people don't feel the same emotions we feel when we look at something.  They have different references that come from their own experiences.  My nephew was adopted from Guatemala when he was five or six.  While he did have a mother who loved him I'm told he ran the streets wild.  She chose to make an adoption plan for him.  She had many more children some who were also adopted out to the United States. I don't know if I'm correct at why he thought this painting had such a visceral reaction for him but I think he equated happy things with blue sky and bright colors.  I also expect that dark greens and grays held not so good memories for him.

Perhaps what we need to do is to seek out the why or how people are thinking. Discover the differences.  Feel what they may feel.

I wonder if the nephew still thinks View of Toledo is a horrible, ugly, dark picture at age 33? Some art critics would agree with him.

Versifications - Occasional fits of verse and poetry

The Gardener (Seed Sower)

In her labyrinthine garden
from earth, from sky
from water, from sun -
a small seed
warms.

A tendril up, a rootlet down -
two small spirals
twisting towards light and dark -
push to freedom, press to nourishment -
growing bolder both
from dark of moon
to fullness in time.
Lovely magenta blooms
going to seed under a Blue Moon.

She stands nearby
drawing in moonlight with every breath -
gathering seed puffs,
feather light,
magenta kernels clinging to white fluff
perched on stems dying, set to fly.

Breathing out gently.
Blowing upwards and outwards
Her breath lifts tiny beings
planting hope and joy wherever moon shines her light.

Humming a grateful tune, she smiles,
plucking the next seed pod
to release under the Blue Moon.

Possibilities

Steps to Tintagel Castle

Not long ago I was at a memorial for a friend who had passed on. I ran into the sister of someone another friend who had passed recently. I told her that I missed her sister's presence. I rarely saw her sister as she knew. She looked a bit puzzled. 

What I really meant was that I missed the possibility, now gone, of meeting her sister on the street, or in a bookstore, or in a meeting. The possibility of having that person to tea and discussing books all afternoon. The possibility of laughing with her again. The possibility of subtle humor shared. To those left on earth that person becomes finite. The possibility of doing more with them, of being more is gone.  I miss possibilities.