The guided visualisation this week was inspired by the experience of walking to a hidden waterfall in the jungle.
First, I will begin with a Pueblo blessing:
"Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth. Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree which stands by itself. Hold on to what you must do, even if it is a long way from here. Hold on to life, even when it is easier, letting go. Hold on to my hand, even when I have gone away from you."
You turn left off the dirt road at a trail marked with a worn-out wooden sign that says "Cascada".
As soon as you turn left, you leave the daylight behind and plunge into another realm. The track leads into a hidden tunnel made of forest.
The path is well-groomed, but the riot of foliage on either side is so impenetrable the trees look like they have been woven together into a tapestry of different leaves with variations of a blending of one colour: green.
There is an infinite number of greens, made greener by splashes of purple and white orchids, poinsettias, wild ginger and hibiscus. Unfamiliar seeds litter the ground, discarded by monkeys you can hear howling somewhere in the distance.
Huge tree trunks run up high out of the jungle floor like massive smooth columns. A few have peculiar buttresses around the base. Vines wind every which way. Some have twisted ropey festoons hanging from the branches, while others drape down to the ground with delicate tendrils.
Darting about overhead are macaws and toucans and other colourful, mysterious birds you don't know the names of — clouds of small brilliant blue butterflies hover above your path.
You feel disconcerted because you aren't used to such an abundance of life in one place.
In the distance, you can hear the sound of a waterfall, and soon you arrive at a small pool surrounded by flat rocks. The waterfall is a perfect size-- not too large or too small. Shafts of sunlight filter through the canopy here to light up certain areas of the water and the area surrounding the pool.
The air is still with a slight fragrance like jasmine or frangipani.
You can't resist the desire to go in the water.
You take your clothes off and jump into the pool. The water is lukewarm. Later you learn it's warmed by flowing over a lava field from a distant volcano. The pool itself is the colour of jade, and the water feels soft on your skin. You float cradled by the super buoyancy of the water, gazing up at the forest canopy.
You stand under the waterfall, enjoying the powerful force of the water like a massage.
After a while, you get out of the pool and relax on a large, flat rock nearby. The sound of the water is soothing. An emerald green hummingbird hovers near your face, then darts away and disappears. You close your eyes and allow the sound of the water to relax and soothe you.
The visualization this week comes from the experience of being in the desert after a season of rainstorms. The intention is to help manifest rain in dry places around the world.
First, I will begin with a quote from Edward Abbey.
" Beyond the wall of the unreal city... there is another world waiting for you. It is the old true world of the deserts, the mountains, the forests, the islands, the shores, the open plains. Go there. Be there. Walk gently and quietly and deep within it. And then---- May your trails be dim, lonesome, stony, narrow, winding and only uphill. May the wind bring rain for the slick rock potholes fourteen miles on the other side of yonder blue ridge. May God's dog serenade your campfire, may the rattlesnake and screech owl amuse your reverie, may the Great Sun dazzle your eyes by day and the Great Bear watch over you at night."
It rarely rains here, but for days, the skies have opened up in the afternoons with vast curtains of thunderstorms and rain.
As a result, the arid desert floor has burst into bloom with carpets of wildflowers that stretch as far as the eyes can see. Wild patches of luminous brittlebush, poppies, bluebells, lupine, sand verbena and desert sunflowers cover the landscape and cast an immediate spell on you.
The seeds lie dormant for years waiting for the moment the rains arrive.
You begin to wander gently through the fields of flowers and find a small animal track to follow through them. It is as if you have stepped into a dream of exquisite colour and scent.
After a while, the trail traverses along the side of a ravine meandering beside rocks and pinon trees.
A dragonfly floats along for a while in front of you.
The path ends at a high spot under sheltered overhanging boulders.
You sit down on a rock and rest.
The silence is absolute. The air is so clear you see the land unfold for miles and miles across the glowing desert landscape.
When you look down at the ground, you notice the tracks of mountain goats or mule deer.
You take your shoes off. The heat from the day has made the sand warm under the soles of your feet. When you burrow your feet underneath the earth, it feels cool and refreshing.
A canyon wren begins to sing.
Far away, you can hear thunder. The wind begins to stir. The slight breeze brings with it a faint perfume of sagebrush mingled with the wildflowers and earth.
In the distance, you can see clouds beginning to roll in. Billowing anvil headed cumulus nimbus clouds trailing a veil of storm.
A wall of rain edges closer and closer to your secret spot. Barefoot, you retreat to the sheltered nook underneath the overhanging slabs of rock.
The rain comes down. Pelting the sand and splattering the rocks with thick raindrops. The landscape becomes blurred and obscured.
Soon the intensity of the rain abates and diminishes to a shower. One large foot of a rainbow hovers above the valley of flowers.
You enjoy the calming sound of the rain and the faraway thunder. You breathe and relax, watching for the rainbow to dissolve.
This week's visualization will be from the arctic circle.
You are on a polar voyage heading north on a vintage schooner.
You wake up on a wooden berth in your cabin. The summer days are eternal this far north, and as a result, they have a habit of all blending into one. But you know it is morning.
Brilliant sunlight floods through the porthole. A fire burns inside a small iron pot-bellied stove in the corner. Despite all this, you can still see your breath, and the cold makes your lungs feel cleansed when you breathe the air.
The sea is calm now. The boat drifts on the slightest of currents. Outside you can hear the whisper of the polar wind.
You sit up, making sure to keep a firm grip on your soft down comforter to stay warm. From where you are sitting on your bunk, you can wipe away a thin layer of frost from the window to look outside.
Overnight the boat has drifted into the northern Arctic Ocean, and now you see you are in the middle of a gallery of marble and ivory icebergs sculpted by the sea and the extreme cold. The view is one you could never imagine in your wildest of dreams.
The icebergs are ghostly white, and underneath the water, you can see the underside of them glowing molten aquamarine with the light of an outlandish kind.
The more massive floes are sapphire blue and twisted at the edges. You can only imagine the amount of ice below the water.
In places on the ice, neon emerald green water fills carved out basins and pressure cracks. A ghostly frost smoke wafts from some of the edges.
Several seagulls appear out of the haze. For a while, they glide alongside the porthole at eye-level and then skim away out of sight.
The ship navigates slowly through the dark blue greasy looking seawater and smaller chunks of ice like a galaxy of jigsaw puzzle pieces. You float past even more Icebergs, fleets of them — sinuous sculpted crystal temples with towering spires, Moorish arabesques domes and drowned arches. The boat passes a massive one resembling a toppled temple.
A polar bear is standing on the edge of a chunk of fast ice. The bear suddenly shakes its fur with a starburst of droplets. You watch as it slowly moves down on its forelegs and slides on the glacier into the soupy sea.
The sea becomes choppier, and you lie back under the covers on the berth watching the licking rays of light from the water lapse and flare over the wooden ceiling of the cabin.
The ship rolls smoothly back and forth on the waves. The movement lulls you. You breathe. Close your eyes and drift off on a wave of sleep.
You are walking on a path through the forest. A slight chill of winter is lingering in the air, and the leaves from last autumn still carpet the earth and crunch under your feet.
The bright sunlight behind the bare trees casts long stark lines of shadows across the ground. In the distance, you can see the rounded amethyst coloured mountains that surround you.
There is a fresh damp smell of earth. Occasionally you see pale flat-capped mushrooms growing in the shadows at the base of some of the tree trunks.
The trail begins to wind gently up a hill around massive boulders covered with lichen and moss. A few of the rocks have stunted trees growing out of them clinging by ropey twisted roots.
Eventually, you reach the top of the rise and find yourself on the edge of a flat field with thick grass beaten down by the wind and bleached out by the sun.
In the centre of the field is a narrow stone tower with a cone-shaped roof reaching to a cloudless sky
You walk across the field to the tower. On the west side of it is an ancient wooden double door. When you turn the latch and push gently, the doors swing open. Going inside, you find yourself at the bottom of a swirling spiral staircase.
There isn't much light at the bottom of the stairs, but you begin climbing them anyway. You can feel that years and years of people's hands have smoothed the stone railing, and in places, the steps have irregular dips from their footsteps.
After a short time, you reach the top of the tower and find yourself in a vaulted, open circular room. The sun is shining through a large stained glass window with a bird and a river which casts jewels of jade green and light blue light all around the room.
When you look through the transparent parts of the glass, you can see the path you have been on meandering through the field and the forest below.
The room is warm and welcoming. A fire smoulders in the fireplace, and you can tell someone was burning incense.
In the middle of the room are a large wooden desk and a green velvet chair.
Stacked on the desk, are a couple of large antique leather-bound books with Latin text, and numerals etched on the front in gold leaf. When you open up one of the books, you are surprised to see detailed hand-drawn ancient illustrations and undecipherable writings in ink calligraphy. You study a page with a tiger on it. Another has a dragon with fangs curled up with a winged gryphon. On another page, a unicorn and a centaur. All the pictures depict mythical animals.
You sit down in the chair and get lost for a while in the tantalizing beauty of the images. The gentle afternoon sunlight in the room and the glow from the fire is soothing. You put the book down for a moment, close your eyes and slowly drift off into a deep, deep sleep.
〰️ Clara 〰️
I am bringing my favourite outside experiences and imaginings to create visualizations that encourage peace and relaxation.