Leonie writes about grounding herself by placing her bare hands and feet on the Earth.
What the heck, I thought. I need all the grounding I can get. So I’ve been sitting in our backyard, between the scruffy roses and the hills hoist, both hands and feet planted firmly on the ground.
I practice the meditation Kosta taught me, focussing on my breathing, then the sounds around me, pushing my awareness out as far as the horizon, then bringing it back to me.
I have more mosquito bites than usual, but I’m enjoying it. And I am feeling more grounded.
One of the things I like best is keeping company with the white gum in our back yard. He’s soaringly tall and graceful, and he’s just shed all his bark for summer. His trunk is startlingly white and mottled underneath, almost glowing in the dusk.
I suppose I could riff on the analogy of shedding our skin, starting anew with this new year. But you get it, right? And besides, all I really wanted to do was leave you with the peacefulness.
Just a tall, bright, slender tree, on a still summer evening, in an unkempt corner of Australia.
A smooth, soaring Eucalypt.