Gratitude of Place

The upstairs healing room, in which I get to work, is lined with mirrors which reflect the deodar pine, bamboo and tall privets outside. It has soft beige carpeting, high beamed knotty-pine ceilings, and light from the four directions. Every day I climb the stairs to the “tree-house” room, I feel grateful. Each step up fills me with more and more gratitude - ‘til I’m overflowing.

Since 1988, I’ve been privileged to work here in our home, seeing clients day after day, week after week. The room is permeated with the residue of healing and ceremonies past. The walls absorb the gifts of relief and revelation, inspiration and "a-ha" moments, while the steeply pitched roof serves as a chimney to take out the exhaust. It doesn’t land on anyone. All the grief, loss, madness, terror, anger, frustration, disgust, rage, fear and  loathing evaporate into the skies and rain down as pure energy somewhere - flowing to the oceanic reserves of pure energy to be used by the Universe to make new stuff.

Because my work space is surrounded by trees, nature plays a part in each session. A disclaimer on the door should read: “Urban Shamanism Practiced Here.” Some clients attract the woodpeckers, others car horns, sirens, hummingbirds or chickadees. Crows are common and make such a wide range of sounds as to need a glossary. Mocking birds have been clocked with no less than fourteen songs. Each sound may punctuate what’s happening in the client’s body, my body or in the field between us. One slanting privet branch provides a rakish angle for squirrels to run from our rooftop to our neighbor’s, or to lie on and rest while absorbing the slant of winter afternoon sun. In summer, they cool their bellies on it in the dappled shade. Their soft round eyes look in directly at the clients who need squirrel energy and furry blessing. They remind us how important it is to savor creature comforts in the midst of doing all we have on our to-do lists to do.

It pays to pay attention to the elements. Each signal from the surrounding hug of nature goes into the mix of the session. On the menu might be: Acupressure today with a side of hummer’s thrumming wing-beats; yoga therapy with crow-click serenade; or tracking the nervous system against the backdrop of rain on the roof - restoring fluidity to a dry system. Whatever the need, nature surrenders up a gift that supports us. If not fully healed, at least we feel met in some way. Sometimes I note silently what the world of nature offers during the session, other times I speak it and delightedly call my client’s attention to it, if s/he hasn’t yet noticed the support from outside. 

Once a pair of chickadees frantically tried to get through the glass windows  - hitting them again and again with their small brown beaks. There seemed to be some urgent message this client needed to tend to and the feathered ones were the messengers: A reminder to remember the half-forgotten dream.

I am humbled by the participation of the natural world and reminded of my place in it all.

How fortunate am I to show up to work here!