Messages from Mother Earth: The Air

I welcome you to these Messages from Mother Earth, from precious times in the air with the mountains and the waves…

Message One – The Mountain

Welcome to this place, my place.

As the afternoon draws to a close I watch the clouds, touched golden by the late-day sun, racing across the summit. I wonder how the winds will treat me when I arrive there. I feel the presence of the mountain strongly as she stands up to that wind. She has been there for aeons. I wondered what her story is, of her relationship with those winds. Has she been higher and the winds have begun to bring her down? Or have they carried snow to make her higher?

*

Days later, I stand on that summit; a sacred boundary between the land and the air. The day is fine and I can see for miles and miles. I can see the rivers wending their way far below. I can see mountains all around, snowy peaks stretching to the sky. I feel like a bird, I am so high. The winds blow me hard and I am glad of the ropes tethering me there. I savour the wind streaming through my hair. Being here, I feel the strength of this mountain as she stands up to the wind.

I am close to the sun and the light was wondrous. I can feel the light on my skin, its brightness taking some of the sight from my eyes. Yet it makes the air so clear, crystal clear that I can see far, far away.

My heart overflows with joy as I savour these precious moments with the light, with the winds, with this mountain who is with them always. And with this joy my healing begins. I thank the lady spirit of this place, my eyes mist with tears.

The clouds roll in from the west, covering some of the mountain below us. The west wind leaves us alone on the summit, and I wonder how it will treat us as we climb down. Gathering our ropes and our strength, we begin the long descent. The clouds enfold us and the night begins.

[From my book On Aspiring: Journey Beyond Courage]

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Message Two – The Flight

I’m an eagle.

The wind rushes past the little window of the glider as we bank and circle upwards. Now I know how the eagles rise, finding the thermals and gracefully circling upwards on the wind’s wings. No need for flapping, they bank and let the wind lift them ever higher towards the sun.

From my seat I can see the sun glinting on the little scratches on the windscreen. I wonder how the eagles see the light. Does it sparkle and dance for them? The light is so bright I can reach out and touch it. Shivers of joy shoot through me as I gently lay a finger on the windscreen, and the light dances on my skin.

We bank again and I can see the mountain, her white summit glistening in the clear air. I can see the river, snaking below. And I can see an eagle, joining us in the thermal.

Is he hunting, or enjoying the space as we are? I have often wondered about this. We do not think that animals can simply be in the moment, simply play. But perhaps they do know how to be themselves, to simply play and enjoy the present, so much better than we can. And what a wonderful way to play, to glide ever upwards on a thermal, to touch the sky with those feathered wings.

Cramped in the little cabin in the sky I yearn to stretch out my arms as an eagle. I close my eyes and there I am, arms stretched and flying like an eagle.

Bliss.

*

Message Three – The Wandering

Welcome to my space.

The albatross flies, wings stretched out effortlessly, skimming the waves. She dips into the hollows between the waves, catching the wind eddies under her wings, then banks and rises over the white crests. Such long slender wings, made for long ocean wandering. Slowly, with all the time in the world, she circles our boat. I call “Hello, dear one”. I can’t take my eyes from her.

I silently speak to her of the joy that is here for us, and of my wish that she finds joy here too. She banks, looks me in the eye, and circles us once more.

Her mate appears from behind, long wings stretched out, hanging in the air.

Balancing on the rocking boat, I stretch out my arms as an albatross. Gazing up, I am flying with them up in the air, over the crests of the waves.

Joy.

Thank you Mother Earth for all the gifts of your air.