Reflections at Beaverlac

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To dance under a sky – a velvet river of midnight stars and milky grey nebula. There flowed a river of light, a glittering map of constellations, infinite galaxies that never ended and carried on. I came to this place not knowing how madly, badly I needed to be opened wide, to connect to the universe, to return to the source.

We sat by a river and the sun was setting, casting shadows over salmon pink rocks and the moon hung suspended, like a silver stitch embroidered into a lilac sky. I felt a tug inside of me – an aching to return. That gentle yet overwhelming reminder of the everythingness that I am. I remembered my unity. My belongingness. My power. I drank in waves of self-acceptance, standing tall in my solidity, my matriarchal power. I kept wanting to reach out for something, grasping, grasping – why was I grasping? Reaching, reaching out for the source. It’s inside of us all. An innate longing to return home. A reminder that our daily lives are all a story we tell ourselves. A fantasy. We are products of our environments. We’re all animals, dressed in suits, trying to confine and tame our primal desire to be one with the earth. To feel the sensation of bare feet against hot rocks, sand between toes, clambering through the reeds, strong like a noble warrior. Our hearts hammering in our chests, to feel utterly connected to all life.

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I felt a tugging that I cannot explain. An immense oneness. I sat on a rock, that was perched out, like a podium to the stars, staring up into the abyss, me and the moon, the moon and I. She was breathing with me and I felt a light beaming from within me. When I looked down the light disappeared but when I looked back up at her, the light was shining from just below my periphery. The light was coming from me. The moon was recognising the light in me. I felt such a sense of deep sturdy grounding to the earth.

I am a solid, motherly, powerful, fiery, daughter, sister, goddess of the ancient Earth.

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