Heart-centred creators, conscious relationship builders, artists, nature lovers, healers, tea drinkers, leaders, misfits, spiritual seekers, water watchers, poets, sacred space makers, pilgrims, dreamers who write with flowers, soul friends…
I close my eyes, connect to the centre, and let images of the beautiful communities I’ve known wash over me.
I see a group of us in St. John’s talking late into the night or meeting for Sunday brunches. I remember the fresh crepes, the veggie tofu strips, and the salads we made when we got together. Big bowls full and never the same. How I learned the promise and beauty of like-minded souls coming together.
I see the late night ecstatic smiles after dancing until I couldn’t stand anymore.
I see a canoe. Deep waters just outside of Vancouver. And a friend and I paddling. Together. How the water calmed and turned green with the trees’ reflection as we stopped for a while by one of the many islands. How I saw Green Tara shining back at me.
I remember the ways I have healed in community…
Eight of us around a table, in the Toronto Women’s Bookstore, writing our stories.
Fifty kindred spirits in a Facebook group finding sanctuary. Speaking from our hearts, and using heart shaped language, to find solace in each other’s lives.
One woman holding me as I cried. Seeing me completely and loving me generously.
Fifteen brave souls in a sweat lodge in Michigan. Releasing all that held us. Letting in our light.
Hundreds of us in Glastonbury singing and hand-holding our way through the sacred landscape and into our sacred power.
Two friends sitting across from each other sharing their deepest dreams and deepest fears. Drinking tea. Simply. Not alone.
I bow to the medicine.