The earth welcomes you
If my Substack / Yoga offerings / creative work were a space... this is what it would be
A week or two ago, I devoured an article collaboratively written by
and on “World-Crafting for Business,” which took me on a journey. There’s nothing more I can say to this except that It took me on a journey. A journey through their individual creative work in one simple (but truly magical) way— how it makes you feel.They each answered the question: If your offering/s were a space… what would it be?
And answered it fully. The textures, smells, lighting, sounds, nothing was uncovered. It made the reader feel their work, rather than witness it. It was incredibly evoking.
They then asked this of the reader. I’ve been ruminating over my answer for some time, as I feel it to be important to span all my creative endeavours and services too.
I thought it appropriate to share it with you, the reader, and see where this lands.
Furthermore… if you are a creative, small-business owner, in service of others etc. what would your answer be?
I highly recommend reading the full article for a deeper immersion into the power of imagery and world-crafting.
Here is the link! It’s a great read!
And so, if my Substack / Yoga offerings / Creative work were a space... this is what it would be:
You’ll find yourself in the forest. A bubbling river flows alongside an oasis of chintz armchairs, woven carpets and cushions sprawled underneath a sea of flickering lights… looking closely, you see that the lights are real fairies dancing amongst the trees overhead.
The light of the moon peaks through the magnificent trees. Around the mother tree, people gather.
Here, one is always barefoot. Beauty is found not in the external of people’s aesthetic, but in the radiance of their smile and what is seen of their soul through the windows of their eyes.
People sit in a chain, threading flowers through each others’ hair or behind their ears. Some sketch with charcoal, left to cool from a fire. Everyone treats one another with tenderness and softness. With love. Some sing in imperfect unison, others talk in earnest whispers deep in discussion.
Everything hums, with the music of the forest— the hoot of owls, the call of cicadas, the flow of the crystalline river.
The hollows of the trees hold stacks of books waiting to be read. You pick the top one of the nearest pile, the old spine creaking as you open the front cover, and pressed to its first page is a flower. Perfectly preserved, in full pigment. The botanical world is interwoven with that of the human.
Everything is threaded together, stitched to create a tapestry of deep knowing. You know you are welcome here, as you kick your feet up on a couch and lie back amongst the beings around you. Some read alongside you, others sleep peacefully. There’s an unspoken vow of the land that it welcomes you as you are.
~
Inside the forest it’s midnight. But as you walk away from the moon and mother tree, the trunks thin and open onto a meadow in the fullness of daylight. Here, you can be in the mystery of night or the brilliance of day. Yin or yang.
You walk onto the sunlit paddock of ankle-length grass, evergreen and ever-eaten by the goats, cows, sheep and horses that graze freely on the land. Wildflowers grow amongst the legs of the animals, landing spots for the bees that hum and buzz from flower to flower. The cool and dark of the forest is tempered by the beaming sunshine of the meadow. Yet both spaces feel in flow with their inhabitants.
Here, the people ride bareback or play games with one another. Some lie on the soft pillow of the earth to soak in the indescribable energy of space and sun. Laughter, joyful shouts, and yells of encouragement soundtrack your experience in the meadow.
In both the sunlight and moonlight, everything grows and plays wildly. Instead of gardening or tilling the earth, food is foraged or harvested as a part of the cycle of life. Abundance comes off the back of taking only what you need. Weeds are foraged for food, not picked for their nuisance. Mushrooms grow from the decay of the forest floor. Chicken and duck eggs lay nestled amongst the roots of the trees on the fringe of the forest. The ecosystem supports itself, and what’s most striking is that humans are just a small part of this cycle.
You are a part of the earth. The earth is a part of you. Rugged wildness is a part of it all. You learn from the earth, and do not own it— because you can’t own your Mother.
Here is where you rest. Listen. Learn. Play. Share. Receive. And be wild. Here is the home we all have.
It’s subtle, yet obvious, what I hope my work evokes in you. Whether you subscribe to my writing, attend my classes, or buy a piece of my art, I hope that it cultivates a feeling of being welcome as you are. Connected to the earth and its (our) rhythms. Dancing in the polarity of light and dark, as we navigate this modern world.
I would love for you to let me know how this resonates for you… and if you are a creative or creator of a small business, what would your space be?