It's a grey, gemuetlich Sunday morning on our small island of looooove (you have to imagine a smooth radio voice saying "loooove"). It would be very peaceful... if not for the brotherly wrestling storm which rolls my way every few minutes, and the leaf blower at work on the roof. Still, I'm having a vegemite-on-toast-green-tea kind of moment, listening to Neil singing about a Heart of Gold.
Feel like another German memory moment? Oh OK then. I was having breakfast in a dark old German farmhouse (it was probably also a Sunday), with my friend Libby-dibby (you know - our favourite climate-change psychologist) when Heart of Gold came on the radio. Lib's face lit up like very gentle, soft, gold and she smiled, eyes closed, swaying, as tears trickled down her homesick cheeks. She's taught me a thing or two about golden hearts.
Not much blog action often means much busyness in my real life and head. I've been pondering many things: friendship, western privileges, heavy melodrama, parenting, backyard fencing, the narcissism of "lifestyle" blogging, overseas air travel, home renovations, craft during uni semester breaks, herbal formulae, homeopathic remedies. No major decisions have been made. Just many many circle games (and quite a few bottles of herbs). I will be packing my bags soon though, for a quick little trip to a new place to check out the lay of the land. There was that quick taste of winter in February and now there will be a flash in the pan of summer in July. My body seasonal gauge really will be confused this year.
Speaking of winter... amongst the circles of the season has been a beautiful winter festival. A spiral of ivy, camellias, apples and candles. Shining lights of growing hearts and mindful parenting and educating. I've said it before and I'll say it again: our winter festival is my favourite festival of the year. It is the festival which brings me in, reminds me of love, and light, and stillness, and great deep beauty within. While the festivals of the other seasons are always celebrations of living and community, the winter festival is much more introspective. This year, after the children had walked the spiral, lit their candles from the central burning flame, and added their glowing light to that of those who had walked before them, and returned to their classrooms, their parents enjoyed their own silent, beautiful communal walk of consciousness. I can't tell you how enriching our school is for all of us.
And with that, I shall leave you while I return to my tossing and turning, looking for my centre.
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