Treetop house

I can't leave my Blog evening without seeing how Anna is doing. She is a real help to me, a key to hearing how I am in the melee of life's tumble.

How will I key in to her today? By scanning through my body and finding a place to connect with her. Image of butterflies pops into my consciousness, that's where we are starting today. By scanning through the terrain and images already conjured about her - the woodland, the belly pit, the underground womb, the river, the ocean, where is she today? Treetops.

The breeze at the top of the pine tree, tallest in the wood, Anna waves with joy, laughter on her face, reassuring, light as life though this image is a miniature soul expression, weightless and free. If I let Anna alone, she stays there nestled with a branch, dipping in and out of the cluster of pine needles with the gentle sway. If I connect with her, lowly human writer, the branch dips lower and lower and looks in danger of breaking. The heaviness of terrestrial life and the dawdy reality of incarnation threatens to topple her.

She smiles in greeting having not seen me for a while and calmly shins down the central pole of her tree. It is sharp to her touch, this tree, scratching her as she descends. About half way down is a platform and she beckons me up, thank heavens I've got my bouncy shoes on, butterfly wings take the weight off and there we are together drinking redbush tea heated by a single gas burner and an aluminium camping kettle.

Anna is wild, breathless with the fresh life. She need not speak, as being present with her exudes a heartiness beyond the details. I thank her for being with me. I lie back on the wooden board, unmoved by the height at which we perch, being with Anna is being home.

My eyes are closed. It would make sense to view the clouds right now; somehow I know behind my eyelids they are swiftly erasing their path across a clear blue sky, but I don't want to look. I want to be here, the smell of wood shavings makes up the hardboard, it bristles beneath my hard skull in contact. I turn my face to breath it in more soundly and curl this body around the warmth of my tea.

Thanks Anna, this feeling is enough, of life, of balance and of safety. Cheery, with rosy cheeks, she nods and fades.