I listened, sound by sound
Day 22 of my tree puja. The tree stands within the activity of air.
I heard the sounds of dawn and tried to imagine not hearing them but experiencing their vibrations, as the tree does and as we do too.
I knew that something had changed
Day 21 of my tree puja. Sensing shifts in the tree’s energy according to the seasons was a remarkable aspect of the tree puja. Our urban, house-dwelling lives have desensitised us to this subtle knowledge. Reconnection comes with the routine of ritual.
And I knew that the tree was preparing for Spring, that its blood was starting to flow and its buds to swell.
Because my head needs sorting out.
Day 20 of my tree puja. I use the tree puja to help me move on from the death of my teacher.
…looked up through its naked arms to the remaining stars, planets, the simmering light of dawn and said, I’m out of here, as the cold ate into my pink skin, and bits of wet stuff stuck to me.
For my teacher
Day 18 of my tree puja. I had news that my yoga teacher from the 1970s had died. She was a precious person, so the puja was dedicated to her.
The tree and the rain are old friends
Day 17 of my tree puja. I almost don’t go because of the cold and rain… but the tree and the outside summon me.
I turned my face up, and the softest rain was sprinkling down upon me. I opened my mouth and felt the gift of the sky…
…as tired night lets go and day edges in.
Day 16 of my tree puja. In case you are wondering, the winter of 2009 was one of the wettest on record in Hobart. Stay with me, because eventually Spring bursts upon the scene! We’ve a way to go yet though.
I move from the inside realm, and into the presence of pre-dawn, still and pregnant, as tired night lets go and day edges in…
Curious about the image? Keep reading…
The dawn sky was dim and holy.
Day 15 of my tree puja. Full moon, snow on the mountain, winter silence is on the tree.
The tree becomes a projection of my mental state sometimes
Day 14 of my tree puja. In which I share my misery in the cold and wet. Oh well.