Experience Journeys

Look who's turning me on these days...

Fireweed.

I've been wondering what it really means for a body to turn on.

When we feel safe...

our breath deepens.

Our hearts soften.

The world becomes more vivid.

Our senses grow sharper.

Colours more vibrant.

Birdsong more crystalline.

The fragrance of a meadow more intoxicating.

Wonder returns.

Perhaps "turned on" is simply another way of saying we've become available to life again.

Fireweed.

One of the first wildflowers to return after wildfire, it doesn't deny what has happened.

It simply begins again.

Apparently I've reached the age where wildflowers are what's turning me on.

Me and the bees.

In my defence... flowers are the reproductive organs of plants.

Look who's turning me on these days... Fireweed. I've been wondering what it really means for a body to turn on. When we feel safe... our breath deepens. Our hearts soften. The world becomes more vivid. Our senses grow sharper. Colours more vibrant. Birdsong more crystalline. The fragrance of a meadow more intoxicating. Wonder returns. Perhaps "turned on" is simply another way of saying we've become available to life again. Fireweed. One of the first wildflowers to return after wildfire, it doesn't deny what has happened. It simply begins again. Apparently I've reached the age where wildflowers are what's turning me on. Me and the bees. In my defence... flowers are the reproductive organs of plants. #wildflowers #braggcreek #beelove

Wildfire — What the Smoke Carries The smoke returns. So do the memories. I find myself wondering if my body remembers before my mind does. Jasper is my childhood home. Two summers ago, wildfire forever changed that place and the lives of the people who called it home. More than 2,000 residents lost their homes. My mom was one of them. We check the Air Quality Index. We measure PM2.5—tiny particles suspended in the air. But what stories travel within every breath? As I breathe, the forests enter me. Disbelief. Anger. Grief. And... Tenderness. Community. Care. The smoke also carries traces of all who called this place home. People. Trees. Birds. Mosses. Lichens. Insects. Mammals. Fungi. Countless lives returning to the atmosphere through fire. We grieve when people lose their homes. As we should. And we can also grieve the more-than-human communities whose homes, families, food sources, and ancient relationships were lost to the flames. I think of the black bear found crawling through the forest, her paws burned so badly she could no longer walk. She did not survive. She, too, called Jasper home. Their lives—and their losses—are rarely spoken of. The older I become, the more the word home stretches beyond the walls of a house. Home has grown to include forests. Rivers. Lakes. Grasslands. Wetlands. The wings, roots, fur, feathers, scales, and mycelial threads that have quietly shaped my life. Their well-being has become woven into my own. The forests that have so faithfully given us breath now return to us on the wind, asking not only for my grief, but for my remembrance—and my compassionate response. May we breathe today with tenderness. May we hold in our hearts those already affected, those living with uncertainty, the firefighters standing in harm's way, and the countless more-than-human beings whose lives are so often absent from our conversations. May every breath remind us that we belong to one another. — Amarin Dawn #JasperNationalPark #IloveJasper #wildfire

Sometimes, in caring so deeply for our living world... we lose sight of something. Beneath the grief. Beneath the worry. Beneath the exhaustion. Beneath the anger... is LOVE. Love for rivers. Love for forests. Love for wildlife. Love for future generations. Love is why your heart hurts. I've learned that if you follow your grief down to its roots... you'll find love there. This day is an invitation to remember that. Not by turning away from the world... but by returning to the very source of your love. We'll wander slowly beneath the trees. Rest in hammocks. Share tea. Listen deeply. Create an Earth Altar as an offering of gratitude and reciprocity. Receive the quiet care of the living world... so we can return with steadier hearts. Restore with Nature 
Sunday, July 26
 Near Bragg Creek You can exhale here. Link in bio to learn more/register I'd be so appreciative if you would share this post.

I thought my heart would explode there was so much beauty. Then I remembered... our hearts can hold so much more than we'll ever know. — Amarin