December 2010

In December of 2010 I made a commitment to run a half marathon. 
I had flirted with running in the past, but never more than a few miles max and much of it on a treadmill. 

But as 2011 began I signed up for a training group and started weekly runs in Annadel State park here in town. 

And I ran and walked my way through several months of training, discovering new ways of being with the land and making some new friends along the way. 

The thing about running on trails is you must pay attention to your body and its relationship to the earth. To the rocks, to the roots, to the incline and decline or a trail, to how you cross streams and to the very texture of the soil (mud vs hard pack, shale vs dirt). 

During this time, I listened to my breath, my footfalls, the turkeys and rain and trees, the coyotes and the streams. 
I learned to listen to my body more intentionally. (I also learned some new tricks to ignore it lol). 

In 2011 I ran a half marathon, I ran through the joy of my wedding that year and the grief of my Dad’s death. 
I ran into 2012, and more races, and losses and stressors and I learned that running gave me a home for these big feelings. 

I cried and screamed and laughed and rejoiced on those trails. 
And then somewhere around 2018, I stopped running. I think it was an injury. 
I can’t remember now. 

I still visited those trails, and I found other ways to move my body (some which I adore and continue still). I played with running a little, on cement, around the neighborhood. 
It felt good. 
But nothing like those early days. 

Yesterday I started running the trails again. And I remembered the sacredness of that relationship between my body and the earth. Between my feet and the roots and the rocks and soil. 
I’m slow. And steady. And my body remembers just what to do. 

I have a hard time being still. And so often in hiking I’m with people and talking and sharing and I see what is around me, but I don’t see it in the same way I do when I run a trail. When my senses are so heightened. 

What do you do to connect with nature, Wise One? 
Like really connect. 
When do you truly hear the earth? 
And your body? 
And the relationship between the two. 

As I age there are so many things I “used” to do often that supported this relationship. Camping at least once a month, reading beneath trees, watching clouds on my work break. 

I am realizing how many spaces have been filled with to do lists and responsibilities (some created some out of my control). 

On that trail yesterday I felt like I picked something up that my past self dropped. 
And now I want to hang onto it tightly and never let it go. 

Come explore the outdoors with me! 
The Wise Woman Witchery Outdoor Retreat brings us together in Sonoma County California June 7th-9th. 

You can discover the details and registration info here 

Moon Magic
Did you register for the moon magic class yet? 
This free one hour class is happening on the 26th at 4 pm PT 
(a replay will  be available for those that can’t make the livestream). 
We will spend an hour together diving into the energies of the moon and ways we can work with her in our magical practices. 
Register Here

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