It is raining here today. Thankfully. The water cools the heat that should have left by late September and covers the dirt in the empty stream beds. I have never seen such dryness where I live. The lake where we spend much of our summer has receded by feet from the shore. The sandy cove popular with swimmers, now a vast mudflat exposing the spindly legs of a dock that no boat can go near. It is surreal. It is so uncomfortable to observe, I could not take a photograph.

Each day brings a new challenge to face, asking us to learn how to live on the edge, and quite often inside the roiling elements of life. Too often, I find I am chasing after my breath and asking it to expand out of the constriction of my lungs. I go outside during these moments and lay on the good earth to sync my heartbeat back to the Mother. It is the best way I know how to live inside chaos.

The area where I live has become beloved in a way I never thought possible. A simple acre of land surrounding my home is somehow enough to show me the vast wonders of creation. Life contained, yet not contained. The birds come and go and so do the squirrels and the chipmunks. The trees stretching networks of roots too vast to comprehend the mystery of what it means to be rooted. We can move without moving, and with my belly pressed against the grounded life that deep stirring fills the ache of belonging.

Life has become a game of tension and release and I often wonder who is really controlling the bind. I wonder how far we need to go back to remember the vast connection that both binds us into division and frees us into unity? This juxtaposition of a truth that seems alien to our rights if you feed into the beliefs of the mind struggling for separation.

As I listen to the fall of rain and the birdsong of gratitude I am reminded of how false the hold is. The entangled mind that tunes into dissonance feeds a disease that spreads through all minds if the frequency is found and listened to long enough. Why boil the internal waters if what the body needs is a cooling into peace?

Wonderful photos!!
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Thank you. Another way I find peace and beauty 🙂
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I recently heard that Manchester is short by over a foot of rain this year. It is depressing to see all of the dried wetlands. But the outside still calls in a loud voice!
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Judging by the lake in New Durham, it’s at least a foot. I hope we can make it up this fall with rainstorms. Today’s doesn’t seem to be all that impressive though. It’s already stopped. Yes, nature does know how to persevere. Thank goodness for its resilience.
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He had some very heavy rain in southern NH, but it was over by 9. I do hope we can make it up, and, I really hate saying this, but we need a heavy snow winter.
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We do…
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Yes! To your last paragraph especially!
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🙏❤️
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❤ Alethea ❤
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Thank you, Jane ❤
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