There is a different kind of currency that has nothing to do with the so-called 'civilised' world and everything to do with the soul-call back to home.
How do we earn the feathers in our cap?
How do we walk tall in a world of chaos?
What is the thread that pulls us through life?
When you go for a walk in the #woods, or climb a hill and go home somehow feeling 'cleaner' and 'clearer' than when you started, that is the trail of breadcrumbs to home.
We need to wake up to that internal dialogue that our #souls have with the #land, the #elements, the #wild #outside. Sometimes we hear a snatch of conversation caught in a cloud, in a drift of woodsmoke, or in the folds of tree bark.
That time your ears pricked up and you became acutely aware of even the tiniest sounds. That time the acrid exhaust smoke stung your nose and made you long for something that you couldn't put a name to ... that is your soul call.
There is something else.
Feeling grief, depression, anxiety and anger are never 'wrong'. They are, in fact, truth tellers who are asking you to venture into the dark #forest.
We've been conditioned, hoodwinked if you will, into pigeon holing everything in our lives as 'good' or 'bad'. When we are tricked into thinking, just like the prince by his false witch bride, that mediocrity, monotony, cynicism, and unhappiness are the price we must pay to lead an 'acceptable' life.
Acceptable to whom? A faceless soulless entity?
Life is not about dualism. It is not black and white. It is not a neatly stacked and labelled pile of boxes.
Nor is it about that rictus grin plastered on new age faces, and a refusal to consider anything that might be deemed 'negative'. That witch stirring her cauldron of skulls is not going to convinced by the rhetoric you've read on a Facebook meme.
And when contentment comes are we able to recognise and cherish it? That thing we feel when we gaze at a loved ones' face, returning from a long walk into a warm house, eating a home cooked meal after a days' work, standing out on the land and marvelling at the beauty of the world. These are breadcrumbs too.
What is the currency of a soul call?
It is a rainstorm and overflowing gutters. It's the tears shed by a grandmother in her wistful remembering. It's a moment of sunshine on a dull day. It's the sudden squall of wind and a child's tantrum. It is the death of a loved one and it is the constant birthing of new and unexpected things. It is walking along a pavement on an impossibly dark dreary day in January and seeing a splash of gold flowering on dark earth.
That, is a soul-call.
I offer musings, meanderings and movings in and around the woods, paths and meadows where the peaks meet the plains. These are not about destinations, these are about journeys. They are about the explorations, forays and curiosities we engage with along the way. They deal with a "different kind of currency that has nothing to do with the so-called 'civilised' world and everything to do with the soul-call back to home."