sweet honey, in the woods

It was very overdue, this visit. To leave the city and spend a few nights with sweet Honey, in the woods.

Honey is wild and smart and accomplished in both traditional and uncommon ways. She is all things natural, and healing, somehow managing to be both warm & cool with the ways in which she welcomes you in and calms you immediately. Lighting you up, and bringing you to your center.

Honey is compassionately introspective and a juicy, succulent kind of hokey that I am so drawn to.

She is hiking; a quick, uphill pace or a slow, wandering stroll -- it's your choice, your body to move and stretch. Your bones to creak awake in rhythm with your breath.

Cabinets of natural products meant to aid the body and not harm the earth. Deep, fresh air filled lungs and glasses of good wine. Red wine. Whisky while snuggled by a fire or under layers of blankets while watching a movie. Swapping story after story, listening and connecting. Talking so much, so openly, the dog starts to feel neglected; just a couple of hens squawking to him. Talking about god, directly or abstractly. Wanting more of god.

Trinkets around the home representing a beautiful and eclectic energy: witchy, wild, magic memories or wishes. ​Prayers for things yet to be, and tokens of gratitude for everything there is now.

Curiously watching the world while openly participating in its most generous, vulnerable offerings. 

She is she. She is so very she. A shifting energy of multi-faceted womanhood: Barefooted, unpretentious, explorer, home body. Amusingly, endearingly ferrel. I read an article recently in which a tribe of native women refused to wear donated shoes because, as one woman explained, she could not "see" with them on. This resonated so deeply with me, as a person who could never quite explain her deep desire to be barefoot year round, and hatred of socks, even in winter. Honey understands this, too.

Introvert/extrovert...depending on what the soul requires. Listening to the soul to choose each day.

I wish to bottle her womanly energy and spritz myself when (always) I need to be found again. To emotionally wrap myself in her cashmere blanket, smelling the earth's heavenly scents trickle through an open window. To be given permission to howl at the moon or hum a made up song for the sake of feeling the vibrations in my throat.

To be given permission, in general. 

I love my visits with sweet Honey, in the woods. I feel so much more like me again.

Wouldn't you?

​In Gratitude,

​Trish