Inner Landscapes

An inner landscape artist.  Is there such a term?  Because I get flummoxed when I have to describe what I do.  Author, facilitator, life coach, healer – these are some of the terms I use lightly.  To try and keep it brief.  But the truth is that I do little other than tending to my inner landscape.

I lovingly go around tilling the soil and allowing it to breathe.  I remove the hardened rocks of pain, the shards of shattered dreams and the pieces of heart walls that may yet remain.   I clear the straggling weeds of worry and persistent runners of anxiety, acknowledging that their time is up now.  I thank them for filling my landscape and distracting me when I had little else.  Now, I thoughtfully plant the flowers that bring colour and fragrance to my world.  I patiently tend to the saplings of trees that sometimes take years to bear fruit or offer shade.  I marvel at the fanciful butterflies and singing birds that these bring.

I lie down on the grassy meadows whose warm texture of earth and grass nurture the spinning of fresh worlds.  Idly I watch the clear blue skies and occasionally build or zap clouds for the fun of knowing I can.  I meander along the babbling brook –all the while realizing that its song comes from the obstructions it surmounts.  I rest my feet in the cold, sparkling water of life, knowing that it constantly changes.  Constantly reinvents itself and it’s path.   I follow the stream to the inevitable ocean, where I can spend hours listening to the soothing waves ebb and flow in their natural grace.

And in this peaceful inner world, that welcomes all – breeze and storms alike – I invite others.  I introduce them to the space of light. Of this freedom to be.  To taste and smell and feel the richness of the tapestry that we together weave.  And ever so often, they relax back into themselves.  They discern between the noise in the world, and their true heart song.  They imbibe the nourishment that can only come from meeting the moment, the here and the now.  And once they are well accustomed to their own vibe, they leave.  Sometimes to return for another rest, sometimes for a celebration.  Sometimes to grieve the loss of what they never wanted to let go of.

Eventually, they too find their own inner worlds.  And begin to enjoy their garden of loving serenity.  So now they return to exchange notes or share snapshots of their beautiful creations. Once in a while, inviting me to share their new horizons.

And we smile with shared happiness and remain rooted in peace.