Embodying Space

I keep having these flitting fleeting thoughts. I stand on the sawn off trunk of a gigantic old tree. I stand there and think how a year ago standing here would have been impossible, the very space my body is occupying was occupied by the tree. I stand for a moment and before I know it I am in a loose and dreamy trancy state and I get so peaceful and strong feeling. Standing there my feet begin to buzz, unlike standing on the grassy earth or on concrete. Softer. I had this same feeling last summer leaning up against an old oak, time stood still and the droning sound of bees filled my head space and I felt I might tip into the tree, I was so relaxed and soft, loose, my mind totally unfocused and drifting. Such awareness of the tree and its awesome huge, still, strengthening life force. It sounds so hippy dippy and really I don't mean it to at all. So, I have been having these whisper like thoughts that seem to go as soon as they arrive. That the space something living embodied for such a long time period (compared to our brief human lives anyway) can have a vibrational quality, almost - leave a feeling in the air of it having been. Like the creepy spine straightening feeling of being in a place where something horrid happened (or you feel it did). The atmosphere in a room where two people have argued and spoke bitterness -they have left but still the air is tinged with unease. I have often rolled my eyes at the notion of folk talking about 'cleansing' their new homes of those who have left; walking around clapping loudly to banish old 'ghosts' of feeling, ringing bells, wafting burning sage, tying ribbons and herbs and leaving out salt. But now it seems like it might be a good thing (my children would certainly like to walk around ringing bells and clapping into every dark corner!) for one to be able to embody the space for themselves and rid the past. For surely if we stand and feel and listen for long enough in any particular spot we could perhaps get a feeling for what once was.

'....months would pass and a bee would alight near the spot where the lotus had blossomed, and its essence was released again, momentary but undeniable.'