Anchoring In, Dropping Down, Grounding in Nature.

During the global smackdown, I have felt the call away from the hustle and bustle of the technological, residential, cultural mayhem of the city. I’m fortunate enough to live in a city that has nature coursing through it like veins of a great heart, one carved up until its parts remain in the highest and most inhospitable locales across these islands. Animal husbandry, dairy and, sheep farming on this archipelago of islands at the bottom of the South Pacific Ocean has seen a decimation of natural environs to a point where only the ranges of hills and mountains remain forested, except for a few lowland areas under indigenous control. From my front door, I can walk ten minutes and be in a native regeneration forest, climb hills absent of houses, streets, and devoid of people. I spent a lot of time walking through these regions during the four weeks of house arrest and saw that many others had the same idea as me, as the town belt was the busiest I had ever seen it. I for one am all in for less screen time, more time in nature. Here’s why.

Earthing or Grounding is no longer a subject of woo woo, it’s a science. The central theory from one review study trusted Source is that grounding affects the living matrix, which is the central connector between living cells. As electrical beings, we too need a way to anchor this energy, especially if we are over-capacitated with an electrical charge. Walking on the earth, or placing your bare feet on the sand, grass, earth, alleviates the electrical stressors impacting the body. Granted that we are living in a non-ionised soup this becomes even more necessary for our health. I think it also connects us to the sentient life form that is our planet, creating circuitry that unites the two forces, drawing deeply into our being and calming us, and this goes both ways. Communication doesn’t have to relate to spoken language, it can be subtle, feeling and emotion convey messages to those sensitive enough to comprehend their nuances. A thought-form is just as much a form of communication as a spoken sentence can be a vocalising of that thought-form.

Yesterday I had an urge to go out to Tunnel Gully, Upper Hutt, and walk in the forest. I’ve never been there, but the urge to go there was strong and deep. Not being one to argue with intuition I made my way out there and discovered on Tane’s Track some old-growth giants, Hinau, Rata, Rimu trees that defied gravity, stretching their limbs hundreds of feet into the air. I was in awe of these sentient creatures, moved by the wind howling through their canopies, steadfast at their bases, their roots deep and strong. Looking at these giants with a child-like wonder, my heart blossomed into melodious laughter and joy. As most people simply walked onwards without ever stopping to appreciate the majesty of these wondrous beings, I sat there inspired by their fortitude (it was blowing a gale at the canopy level and the branches were moving on a tide of squalls) and grateful for the lesson in surrender to what is.

The last few weeks have been tormenting for me in ways that I haven’t dealt with since my long-term partner of two years broke up with me in January of this year. After we went our separate ways I felt elated, I was ready to move on on one level, on another saddened that my closest ally and I would no longer spend as much time together as we did. Then, in a whirlwind, I met someone who triggered in me a past life experience and a huge download of emotions that I just couldn’t process at the time, so it would be months before I could truly process my feelings of the end of my relationship with Inge, and understand that she no longer wanted to spend time with me due to her need to move forward. Being in the forest yesterday was perhaps the most healing experience post-relationship I’ve had.

I find that being in a forest is the closest experience for me to being emotionally renewed during my times of grief and sadness. I visualise and feel gossamer threads of light rippling towards me as I walk through these hallowed groves, these filaments pierce my emotional body and liberate the most firmly attached notions, ideas, thoughts, nestled in every crook and part of my etheric and free them. In their miraculous and healing way, the forests alleviate my heaviest burdens and set my heart to stillness and receptivity. My experience yesterday in the forest was another opportunity for me to be grateful for their unspoken call for me to heed. ‘Haere mai, Come here.’ I did, and all is well. Thank you 🙂

Nature is my church.

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