Comparing lands’ signatures and emotional healing

North Wales, Snowdonia. So peaceful here. The land lulls you gently into comfort and quiet, soothingly singing a gentle tune. The land’s signature is of a simple life, uncomplicated by any depth of emotion or tragedy, I feel. It is an old land with ancient roots, no doubt, steeped in tradition, but it feels like whatever conflict there might have been it is resolved and the land enjoys a life of simple pleasures. Spirit here is pure and gentle of a colour white. It is felt all around, but ever so slightly. It is in the background and not at all overwhelming. Mostly in the mountains and rocks one would meet the land’s spirits and they are all of a vibration of support and nurture. They continuously tell a story, always talking and if you sit quietly you can clearly hear a narration, which again, like a lullaby, sends you to a place of peace and comfort.

In contrast Scotland’s spirit is rich and troubled, one might say. It carries the land’s history through its glens, mountains and lakes and the strength and power of it can’t be denied. It is in your face penetrating through skin. I am deeply affected emotionally and get sensory overwhelm every time I am in the land. It taps into my shadow signature of violence, loss, grief and bloodshed. Even madness, I’d say, is present in the mixture of what is the land’s spiritual heritage. It stands proudly in its stunning beauty, very protective and wary of strangers. It is anything, but peaceful.

Perhaps, I sometimes reflect it is not a place I ought to be as I align with my past pain addiction when there. I get thirsty for the sensation of attachment to all that the land’s spirit represents. Over the years I certainly understood why I feel the way I do when I am there and why my spiritual awakening had to occur in Scotland. I remember it vividly when all my senses shut down and a strange mixture of deep grief and pure ecstasy entered my awareness all at the same time. I was then given a task to start working it all out and an incredible process of awakening began.

Amidst Snowdonian mountains and forests I feel good. I always had in a way I never do when in Scotland. That place is hard to describe even now, it simply goes beyond me. There I don’t feel safe necessarily, well, perhaps only when on an Isle away from the main land (recent discovery). I feel on guard and bereft but also so incredibly touched and moved in a way I can’t put into words. I feel like my heart breaks when I am there and when I am away from it, both. You can read my other posts about my feelings for the land and my difficulties staying away from it.

Perhaps, I thought this time round while in Snowdonia is that I am aligning more and more these days with the signature of light and peace without needing or wanting to be anywhere else emotionally or spiritually. Perhaps, my light is no longer in the shadow and I have found and settled into the oasis that I had always sought – inner peace.

I can see myself returning to Wales over and over again just to be what I am when I am there, living in the moment with no rush of any kind and a slower way of being in peace and tranquility.

Perhaps, Scotland will remain a mystery for a little while longer and the role of it in my life will become clearer as I continue my exploration and relationship with the land…

 

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My visit to Cornwall

Land’s End, Cornwall

In line with doing things differently this year instead of going to our well-loved and familiar place up North we headed down South. What a learning experience.

As soon as we drove into the land of Cornwall my immediate sense was of emptiness, but only on the surface. I sensed very clearly a lot of activity in the land, but deep underneath, all hidden. On the surface it was all plain, quiet, and almost barren the way that I experienced it. For days on end no matter where we went whether it was to the seaside or in-land the feeling of dullness and boredom never left me. I desperately craved something dramatic, colourful that would touch me, but nothing did. We went to an ancient castle, as no coincidence, I felt I needed instinctively to re-awaken my senses in one way or another. Ancient buildings and sights usually have a strong effect on me. It did, but ever so slight, which proved to lift my spirits and vibration temporarily, but it didn’t last. As we set off on the road driving around the land the feeling of flatness returned. I remained in quiet observation of the place and myself for days with no resistance to either seeking to learn from this experience. It was curious how devoid of emotions I remained, untouched by the land. Later it came to me what that immediate felt sense of the land signature has meant considering a mining history of the place. ‘The gold’ was under the ground and lots of activity is still going on deep below the surface. On top the land is clear of forests, colour and the coastline remains the main place to stir you up, if you love the sea.

I am not a lover of the sea and never had been. This is the only elemental realm I don’t perform magic and feel fairly uninspired. I do love the rocks, however, and I did manage to enjoy communing and sitting on the rocks on our last day when I did feel a touch of gladness.

I was very happy to be back home like never before. I walked in my lush green garden full of spring colours for hours till it got dark and the feeling of joy never left me. I went to bed feeling utterly content being in a place I felt I belonged, back in nature and countryside.

Looking back I learnt some useful information from our trip in terms of my relationship with my husband and I am glad I went down South on his suggestion and allowed myself to listen and observe his vibration when he is on the coast. He loves it and even though I didn’t share his joy I appreciated him enjoying that environment. We are very different and it made me rethink a few things going forward and what was essential to me and what wasn’t. Priceless experience overall.

That is me sitting on the rock, St Ives, Cornwall