I came home with seeds from Flordemayo, one of the 13 Indigenous Grandmothers. She asked, before she gave them to me, if I would nurture them and take care of them, to which I replied: “like my own children.” Last week was special. Special in the kind of way that I can not talk about, or blog about. So why am i blogging about it? As I type, I don’t really know. Perhaps it’s because I just need to say: there are many wonderful things happening in the world. There are change-makers in every field who are choosing to see life differently than what we are fed by our cultural, social and governing systems. Perhaps it is because it is obvious to me that the world IS changing when I tune into the right channels. For a week, I was surrounded by wise and extraordinary people. We were among grandmothers and grandfathers: the keepers of traditional wisdom. There were physicists and thinkers who show us a world where science and spirituality are co-creators in our reality. We were among Earth powers that were tangible through the body and in dreamtime. We were among deeply connected gurus who live according to the subtle energies of the Universe. There were wise councilors and healers and coaches. We were among seed casters and star throwers!
It was a gift to share the music that comes through me in this setting. In the world of Cosmic horticulture, last week was about sewing seeds for a Garden of Eden. Seeds come in so many forms: ideas, imagination, inspiration, questions, answers, conversations: in speaking and in listening. They come as visions, as seeings, as feelings…even smellings, hearings and touchings. Seeds come as hugs, smiles…as laughter, as a helping hand, as a thank you, and in the giving of these little gifts for no other reason than that they are free to give. There is a vibration out there in which any seed will grow and fulfill a unique function in the new garden where it takes us all, and all are welcome.
It is spring on Planet Earth, and the seeds of a bright future are in the ground, germinated and poking their little shoots up towards the sunlight. From Occupy Wall Street, to Occupy Love, life is springing forth in infinite creative and new ways, non of whose outcomes can be predicted, but whose fruits can be tasted in the sweetness of love.
Back on Harmony Farm there is long life, honey in the heart, life in balance and 13 Thank-yous