It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye. — Antoine de Saint-Exupery
This quote is central to the novel I wrote last year; the one I put aside until that little voice calls me to pick it up once more. I hear that voice now, my inner muse. She’s whispering to me to finish this book before the year’s end.
I’ve been spending a lot of time reflecting on this quote and tapping into my own heart space. This year has been a transformational one for me. I’ve worked on healing my heart, after years of keeping it protected behind a cage of thorns — something I felt I needed to do as a result of trauma.
The healing journey isn’t easy, but it is necessary. Ultimately, I’ve found that spending time in nature is the best way to heal.
I’ve always been a wild-hearted nature lover. My earliest memories involve learning to walk beside the sea in the Bahamas — the feel of sand between my toes, the sound of waves against sand. I’m still more comfortable in my bare feet. There were times when I was a teenager and young woman in which I was so used to walking around without shoes that I’d be halfway to my destination before realizing I wasn’t wearing any.
Nature has always called to me, inviting me to listen, gifting me the ability to understand the many languages of the plants and animals who share our home with us. Only today, a crow called out to me, chastising me for being so caught up in my worried thoughts instead of paying attention to the magic all around. I laughed and told the crow I received his message loud and clear.
Since moving to the countryside of upstate New York over eleven years ago, I have worked to build a relationship with all the entities who share my woodland, hilltop home. The magic of this place is astounding; the air fairly sizzles with it. Though I recognized this is a special place in which there are portals everywhere and the veils between the worlds thin more often than in other places I have lived, I didn’t always love it here. In fact, I missed my village in the New Forest in England so much that I couldn’t appreciate this place. Fortunately, this has changed over the past few years.
Since the beginning I strove to meet the nature spirits, chatted with the chipmunks and birds, asked the plants what medicine they had to share, and gave back to the land however I could. Eventually I made my first tree friend here — an ancient pine tree in the woods behind my house that we always call Grandmother Pine. Though I worked so hard to make friends here and attempted to become rooted to the land, my heart wouldn’t let me belong here.
I think on some level I didn’t feel I should connect with the land spirits here as I had believed the nature entities from my ancestral lands (the UK, Ireland, Sweden, and Russia) couldn’t possibly be found here and I don’t have the right to connect with spiritual beings not from my tradition. And yet, these creatures (I’ll call them the Fae just for convenience's sake) kept trying to get my attention. And not just my attention either; several people including visitors and the people who live here on the same land with me have reported spotting a small figure. This being is usually described as being around three feet tall and is often dressed in white or emanating a white light.
Over the years I have discovered this being is kind, gentle, and powerful. He protects the land and all the animals (and humans) who dwell here. And over the years I’ve learned to think of him as a creature from one of my own ancestral traditions — a Tomte. He likes being acknowledged thus. I know because he told me.
Every Yuletide we offer him a bowl of our rice porridge as a thank you for all he does. This is a Swedish tradition, and one I’m happy to pass on to my son. It’s so important to keep traditions alive, don’t you think? But we don’t just acknowledge the Tomte at Christmastime; we sense his presence often and have taken to chatting with him when we see him. It might go something like this:
“Is that you, Tomte? I can’t believe we forgot to close the chicken coop last night. Thank you so much for protecting the hens and keeping them safe throughout the night. We appreciate you and all you do.”
Or else…
“Look at the beautiful bee balm. It’s really abundant this year. Do you love the bee balm too, dear Tomte?”
See how easy that is? Talking to the Fae (there we go, there’s that convenient word again) is a wonderful practice. Though you might feel silly at first, I promise this practice will enrich your life and help you sense the magic all around. Be careful though. Some of them are full of mischief and like to play tricks on you. If you can befriend a benevolent and helpful one, like the Tomte, I think you won’t regret it.
They might even offer you gifts. They’ve been doing this with me. Lately, I keep finding crystals on the land around my home. The first one was a gorgeous citrine I discovered at an observatory just up the road from my home aways. The second one was a brown jasper. The third a black moonstone. They say things happen in threes, so perhaps that was the last of them. Or perhaps I’ll discover more over time.
The physical gifts they give are wonderful of course, but it’s the gift of just having them around that matters most to me. Grandmother Pine (definitely a nature spirit inhabits that tree), the Tomte, and others I’ve learned to see and connect with have helped me to feel I really do belong here — that this is my home.
Tell me about your experiences with the Fae. Have you had any encounters with nature spirits?
A poem for you….
HOME CAN BE A PERSON TOO
You glue my pottery shards together
whole
and fill my imperfections
with your golden gaze of love
that strengthens my ribcage bones
so my minnow can fly free
untethered from the shadows
that once kept her soul
small.
This is a poem from my forthcoming chapbook, True North. You can preorder it here. It releases on September 22.
Also, while we’re talking about poetry books, my first poetry book (Spinning Hair into Gold) is currently on sale. I’m not sure how long this sale will last, so check it out.
I love the quote! I'm glad you decided to return to your novel. Would love to read it! Couldn't agree more with you about your thoughts: nature is medicinal. Your poem is wonderfully penned, as always. I'll buy your books as soon as possible.
Not sure I can find the words but as always, your writing is beautiful and inspiring. They light up my inner spirit and confirm there are like minded people that can feel natures spirits all around us. Loved the part about the air sizzling. Feel the living life force in the worlds oceans every time I'm at the sea. The air sizzles with the multitude of spirits calling to me. Sirens are obviously real because I hear them.