Thursday, October 29, 2015


© 2015 Oona McOuat

Sleep little seed, in your warm earthen bed, dreaming of what you were born to become.

Falling leaves and fading flowers; shades of ochre and brown.  Garden wisdom speaks to me as I pull out the tomato plants.  Let go, and make space for next year’s bounty. 

As the days shorten and a late October wind chases clouds across the moon, I too feel a need to make space for what I want.  

Outside the plants are slowing down, dying back, and decomposing - nourishing the soil.  Growth requires death, my garden teacher shows me.

But my grown-up life with its glowing screens can become frenetic to distraction. So often I am busy and buzzy, but getting less and less “done.”  Slowing down feels like trying to sleep under a fluorescent bulb.   The first thing I need to do is remember how to turn it off.

You see, I have a sneaking suspicion that the time I spend on digital tools – as freeing and uniting and amazing as they can be - is rewiring my circuitry.  I remember how it was at age 18 to watch the first November snowfall through an old stone window in a cafe in Quebec City – how still and purposeful and vast everything was, how immediate and present each sensation.  But if I had been brought up on a steady diet of digital devices, I am not sure I would know that silence, the perfect stillness that existed before the buzz.
candles, girl, and lights image
Turning inwards and making space requires a reclaiming of my own innate peace patterning.  This means saying no to extraneous distractions, like a mindless use of social media, and a huge yes to all that nourishes me. Making space for what I want requires resetting my nervous system and reconnecting to my heart. 

Snugly, cozy, fire, and book.  Pumpkin soup, a forest walk, misty lake canoeing.  Writing and dancing and laughing and loving, and being, just being.  Giving my very best gifts to the very best world I know, believing that we can awaken from our dormancy, our self-induced sleep, to become a balanced, vibrant haven of wonder and delight.

A Mute Swan overwintering at Fulford Harbour, Salt Spring Island - photo by Leigh Hilbert
Sleep little seed, in your warm earthen bed, dreaming of what you were born to become.


Hands Free Mama said...

So beautiful, my friend. Thank you for sharing this with me. Love walking beside you on this journey.

Frank said...

Very nicely done! Thank you for sharing!